In Sickness and In Health
by Bluegrass
Summary: Sickness can often be the tester on which a relationship stands or falls...as Christian and Syed may well find out. Let's just hope there's no 'till death do us part' involved as well!
1. Chapter 1

In Sickness and In Health

Summary: Sickness can often be the tester on which a relationship stands or falls…as Christian and Syed may well find out. Let's just hope there's no 'til death do us part' involved as well!

Author's Note: This was started before the episode that will be forever known as just, 'the hug' but since 'the hug' happened while still in progress, I have added certain elements of the episode. I'll leave it up to you astute Chryed fans to know which is which. Am a big fan of 'the forum' btw, guys. As ever though, this will be my own take. Wouldn't be much fun in following the episodes too closely, now would there!

Chapter 1

"Who's doing this, Christian? And why, just me…why am I being targeted? It's making me crazy."

Syed stormed into the Masala Queen office, both angry and panicky, with his older lover in hot pursuit.

"Who hates me enough to do this? Who's getting sick pleasure out of watching me suffer? And they are watching…they said they were…"

"Look, calm down, Sy…."

"I mean…at first, I thought it was Tambo….Ian…!"

"Yeah…you even thought it was me too! That really hurt, Sy…" And it had. Christian thought back to when the incredulous accusation had been thrown.

"_Oh, you're good…I'll give you that…… That the thinking is it! Try and flush me out…get Amira to dump me…"_

"_Sorry, still not with ya."_

"_Someone sent me a text… 'Smile, bad boy'...!"_

"_And you think that was me!"_

"_Wind me up…watch me fall apart..." _

"….like I could _ever_ do that to you! And making fun of us being a couple….!" The jibe of stereo-typing them as some fluffy gay couple, dreamily walking round hand-in-hand, with puppies, adopting orphans and enlisting 'a chav' to have their babies, had cut deep. Not that there was anything wrong with any of those things; well, maybe apart from being a 'fluffy gay couple'…and the 'chav'. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than to walk hand-in-hand with Syed, openly and without shame; to settle down with him and yeah, why not, have their own little family. And puppies! Puppies were cute, he liked puppies. But he knew Syed hadn't meant it like that and it hurt. "….that didn't feel good, Sy."

The fight had been a bitter and acrimonious one, with Christian so angered he was ready to walk away. _"Oh, I get it, Syed. Question is…do I really need it!"_

Christian was the king, or should that be 'queen', of dry comeback. And that was a big jolt to the young Masood's ego; realising he couldn't always 'play' Christian quite as easily as he 'plays' Amira. But perhaps that was the allure of Christian Clarke; the challenge…among other things!

What remained of their fragile relationship at that point had probably only been saved by Syed getting another text, while his still-smarting lover was still there…giving Christian the satisfaction of feeling totally vindicated.

"I know…and I told you I was sorry. A part of me wanted it to be you because that way…it meant no one else was involved, no one else knew…it was still just between you and me. And then you were so laid-back about the whole thing…you weren't taking this seriously…"

"…so, you put two and two together…and came up with about five hundred!"

Only Syed could manage to make an apology about self-preservation, though he did manage to look a little embarrassed.

"Look, Sy…I am taking this seriously," Christian reassured. "Okay, maybe at first, I didn't think it was referring to you…and I'm sorry. And that picture! I just didn't think there was enough incriminating evidence, to be getting upset about. I still don't. But you do, Sy…so, yeah, I'm taking it seriously. Look, I don't know who's doing this, anymore than you…or why it's just you. But my guess is…with everyone knowing I'm openly gay...they probably think you have more to lose."

Still decidedly on edge, Syed snapped back. "You don't say! So, you have realised that then!"

Christian was well used to his younger lover's barbs and well, to put it bluntly, being 'arsey' when panicked but he was still not about to take everything Syed had a mind to throw at him. "Yeah…I do know what you risk. And personally…I think some things are worth it. But look, Sy…you don't know, for sure, you'll lose your family…"

"And you don't know for sure…I won't," Syed retorted. "And now, they're demanding money!" Here, the younger man began pacing anxiously. "I can't keep paying them, Christian. What if they ask for more? I can't…I just can't….or I'm going to be in the same hole I was in….."

"What you done?" Christian interrupted, as realisation took hold. "You're not telling me you paid that three hundred!" But the look on his young lover's face was all he needed. "Sy…you idiot. I thought I told you to hold off…call their bluff."

"That's easy for you to say. What was I supposed to do?" Syed snapped back. "Wait for it all to get back to Mum…Dad! It said there was a letter!"

"Well, did you see who it was?"

"No…I left it in a phone box. They 'said', to walk away…they were watching. And when I went back to check, the money was gone."

"What! Three hundred quid…in cash…left in a phone box…in Walford. And it's gone. You do surprise me."

And it was all now starting to take its toll on the angst-ridden young man. "I thought I'd sorted it. I thought it was…all over. I don't think I can keep this up much longer, Christian."

And suddenly Christian saw his young lover for what he really was. Saw beneath all the bravado and 'arsey' behaviour, to see just one very lost and scared young man…scared of a future without the safety-net of all the things he knew and had planned for. And Syed had planned. He was one very ambitious young man, as he had so enthusiastically informed Christian that afternoon on the Unit floor – start a business, build an empire, have a beautiful wife and gorgeous kids, to be respected. It was clear Syed just didn't know how to handle the thought of any other future and it was scaring him.

Christian's heart totally melted.

"Hey…come 'ere." Still wearing his jacket, the strapping Londoner reached out, caught Syed's hand and pulled them together. "You're gonna make yourself ill, you know that…all this stress," Christian soothed, as he wrapped protective arms around his young lover and pulled him in close.

And it pleased Christian immensely that the young man willingly accepted the embrace. Didn't try to shrug out of it or pull away, like he had done before, here in the Unit, the few days before the end of Ramadan, when he had teasingly slipped his arms around his young lover's waist. But even better now, was the fact, Syed automatically responded in kind; wrapping his own arms around him.

For one long, beautiful moment, they held each other, close; heads buried in each other's shoulders, just breathing each other in, with Christian quietly rocking his worried young lover.

But for Christian especially, it was a beautiful moment; to hold this man he had fallen so hard for, in his arms, outside of the confines of his flat…and that Syed, for once, was obviously feeling so comfortable with it. Yes, they had shared a deeply passionate kiss outside, in what they had come to think of as 'dirty alley'. But it had been what it was; thrilling, exciting…dangerous and 'dirty'; their need for each other at that moment out-weighing any common sense and the alley, for the most part, having been closed off. This was more of a sweet and beautiful moment between lovers, a mutual sharing of close and intimate affection and in a way, almost felt more public, knowing that any one of their family could walk in at any time. It was just a very 'couply' thing to do.

Syed lifted his head from Christian's shoulder and gazed into those amazing green eyes. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For coming, when I called you."

"We'll sort this, Sy…," Christian soothed and assured. "…we'll find out who's doing this. You're not in this alone, Babe. If they're doing it to you, then they're doing it to me too…and I'm not going to let that happen. We'll get that letter back, before anyone sees it. And who knows…maybe it don't even exist! Maybe it's just a bluff…scare tactics."

Being in Christian's strong arms felt good, very good; felt safe and secure…like he was protected. He so wanted to believe Christian could do just about anything. Well, he did call him 'Superman', after all! Maybe he could make all this go away and they could carry on just as normal…whatever that was!

"I hope so. But with this postal strike…! And there's another one planned for next week. Dad said the mail could get backed up for weeks."

"Well, there you go. And it could easily get lost in the process…if it even exists."

"Christian…you know I really didn't mean all those things I said last week. I was just…"

"Scared…I know. All forgotten," Christian quietly husked. How that man could make even a simple reassurance seem like pure sex, was breathtaking. His mouth then curled into a seductive smile. "I see you're still wearin it."

Raising a bared forearm, Syed looked at his wrist and smiled.

It had been the weekend, Saturday afternoon and after the harrowing week he'd had, of incriminating pictures and threatening texts, he really needed to see Christian…just to be with him. He still felt bad for having accused his older lover of being the one who sent them, not to mention all those other hurtful things he'd said. Why he continued to hurt Christian like that, he really didn't know. It always came out of him without thinking, in times of stress and panic, though that was no excuse. He had apologised, of course and they'd kissed and made-up but with also being so busy at work and Amira demanding his time, they hadn't spent any real length of time together.

Saturday afternoon, Amira was shopping, as usual and so he took the risk of going round to see his lover.

"Heard anything more?" Christian asked concerned, as soon as he entered the flat.

"No…and the letter hasn't turned up either. But then, there's this postal strike…"

Christian smiled softly. "Well, why don't we forget about all that for a while. Inside these four walls, remember…it's just you and me."

And that was why he was here; to be able to forget everything else. Here, there was no façade to keep up, no pressure to be something he wasn't. With Christian, here in this flat, he could just be himself. Something now, though was obviously amusing his East London lover. Christian had that mischievous grin plastered on his face. That 'Marty/Marc', 'you've been tryin not to be jealous all night', kind of grin; like he was bursting to tell him something but wanting to make him work for it, to banter with him. Christian could be such a big kid sometimes.

"Okay…what are you grinning at?"

"I've been shopping."

"Amira does…_shopping. _So, what was it then? A dress…shoes! No, couldn't be…you haven't been away long enough," he grinned in flirtatious amusement.

"Cute, Sy…real cute. No. This was _special _shopping. Bought you a present."

"What! You bought me a present!"

Christian continued to grin mischievously.

And then it suddenly occurred to him. With Christian's penchant for winding him up…!

"Okay…it's one of those cheap 'gold' chains off the market, isn't it?" Syed saw his older lover's face fall, instantly regretted it and desperately tried to back-peddle. "Christian, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It's a real nice thought…and I'm sure I'll like it."

The pause was almost excruciating before Christian's face broke into a huge grin. "Gotcha."

Now it was Syed's turn to shake his head at being well and truly 'got', before the pair broke into laughter.

"Gim' me some credit, will ya. Think I'd want to turn that beautiful skin on your neck green, with one of those. Besides..." And here, Christian turned even more seductively flirtatious. "…takes a certain kind of man, to pull off wearing one of those…the real thing that is!"

And Syed could only smile broadly, in agreement.

"No, here…this is what I got ya." Christian leant over the back of the sofa to retrieve the 'surprise'.

"A puppy. You got me…a stuffed toy puppy!"

"Well, seeing how you said we needed to have a puppy….."

The mischievous delight in the big Londoner's eyes, told the young man, he'd been 'had' again. "Droll, Christian…very droll."

"No…got that for Amy. I've been neglecting my godfather duties just a bit. Been distracted with _other things_." Christian gave his young lover that uber sex gaze he reserved just for him. "Seriously though….this is what I got ya." He watched with delight, as Syed took the small branded-name bag he handed him.

The young Masood felt a rush of anticipation at lifting out the small box inside.

"Well, open it." Christian continued to watch the younger man's reaction, with much delight. He leant forward a little more. "None of that cheap tat off the market, neither."

Syed drew in a breath and locked eyes with his lover. "You…you got this for me! Christian! I…I don't know what to say. It's…beautiful."

"After all the stress you been under, I wanted to get you something special."

"It is. I love it…thank you."

"Here, let me." Christian lifted the expensive tooled-leather, rope-twist bracelet with its chunky steel fastening and fixed it onto his lover's slender wrist. "There…suits you," he breathed huskily.

"Christian…I really don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Besides…we wasted too much time talking as it is. It can be _way_ over-rated."

And right at that moment, it was! They were hungry for each other and it showed.

Perhaps it was the bracelet being a sub-conscious symbol of ownership for both that made sex that afternoon so sizzling. It started with Christian grazing fingers over the bracelet, before raising the inside of Syed's wrist to his mouth; there, to bathe the swarthy, warm skin with sensual kisses. Tracing kisses down into the young Masood's palm, Christian then, unashamedly and with quite deliberate homoerotic innuendo, kissed and sucked on Syed's long, slender fingers.

And from there, it didn't take long at all, for them to end up naked and writhing on the bed together; the sound of their energetic love-making filling the room. No, Syed didn't mind in the least, being 'owned' by Christian Clarke that afternoon!

As always though, for Christian, their time together after didn't last long enough and with a heavy heart, had to watch his younger lover hurriedly dress, after a quick shower.

"Oh…what am I going to tell Amira, about this?" Syed held up his wrist.

"I'm sure you'll think of something…," came the dry reply. Syed, though was completely oblivious, in his haste; thanking Christian again for his present, on the way out. And once the door closed! "…you always do."

And he did. Amira though, wasn't the only one who noticed. That evening, in the kitchen of the Masood household….

"What's that? Since when did you start wearing those, Syed!"

"Oh that! It's just something I picked up. Men _do _wear bracelets, Ma."

"Uh…I suppose that's _that_ Christian Clarke. He's a bad influence, Syed. He'll have you wearing one of those horrible gold chains next."

He had to stifle the huge smile that was threatening to break, thinking of the _certain type of man_ it took to carry it off. "And the vests…don't forget the vests."

She gave him her best 'look'.

"It's okay, Ma…not my style. Besides, it's far too cold now, to be wearing just a vest….," he teased, giving her a playful hug.

Christian was obviously beginning to rub off on him.

"This isn't funny, Syed."

"….no, I'll just leave the gold chains to Christian…and Dad!"

"Your father…." She took a measured breath. "…your father is nothing like Christian. _He_ doesn't go round _flaunting it_…like…like one of _them!_

Yes, sad to say, he had to agree with Christian on one thing. Sometimes his mother could be amusing and sometimes….! He heaved a sigh.

It then seemed like Zainab had a sudden 'light-bulb' moment. "But you know…you're right, Syed."

"I am!"

"What if…what if everyone thinks your father is secretly…one of…one of _them!_ No, he will have to stop wearing them."

"Ma! I never said that! I never even suggested it. And why anyway! Because he wears a gold chain and bracelet!"

"Yes. What if, Syed…what if it's like…some sort of, you know…_code_….!"

"What!"

"….so that_ they_ know…who's one of _them_! You know…_gay!_"

He shouldn't, he really shouldn't but Syed couldn't help but snort a laugh. "Ma, if I didn't know any better, I'd think maybe there was a little something _extra_ in all those custard tarts you've been eating!"

"Don't patronize me, Syed."

"I'm sorry, Ma. But Pa wearing his gold chains…or Christian, me wearing this bracelet…it doesn't _mean_ anything. It's not what you wear…that makes a person, gay."

He was being truthful, of course and was the closest he had come yet to actually discussing the subject with his mother and to, not only defending Christian but his own position, even if in a subtle way…and he felt a surge of exhilaration. But somehow he knew he was fighting a losing battle with her, when he got back an "I suppose you got _that_ from Christian". So, he let the matter drop.

Syed returned from his reverie and settled his arm back around Christian's waist.

"So, what did you tell Amira…about the bracelet?"

"That I treated myself…" And there it was…again; that moment of incredible sexual awareness. "…that when I saw it…I fell in love with it. So much…that I had to have it."

He was taking a risk, he knew but perhaps now then, _was_ the right time…despite last week's painful fiasco in referring to Syed as his 'boyfriend'.

Christian pressed a little closer. "Sy….you know I…"

Just then, the door to the Unit opened. Someone was coming…and the 'moment' was gone.

"Amira!"


	2. Chapter 2

In Sickness and In Health

Christian and Syed are characters belonging solely to the producers of the BBC's EastEnders.

Author's Note: Again, since the episode aired while this was in progress, I incorporated some original dialogue but all the rest is my own, along with my own particular twists. Just want to take this opportunity too, to thank everyone who's reading and reviewing and hope you continue to enjoy.

Chapter 2

For one brief, heart-stopping moment, Christian had dared hope Syed would stay in his embrace. That perhaps, this time, his young lover would have the courage and not be ashamed to be found in his arms, no matter who it was coming in.

But it was not to be. As soon as the clippity-clop of high-heel shoes was heard coming down the stairs, he felt Syed pull away. So, he had let him go; turning away and shoving hands into his pockets.

"Amira!"

"Syeeeed. Christian. I thought I saw you two boys rushing in here," Amira gushed, in that 'girly' way of hers.

"Amira! Princess!

"So…what's the big emergency? What are you two in cahoots about?"

Sometimes, Amira was just too trusting for her own good. For if she had even half an eye, she'd have seen the anxious and some might even say, 'guilty' look, her fiancé immediately shot to Christian. Of course, it was her own level of excitement, over wedding preparations that blinded her to any other possibility. "I know…don't tell me. It's about the wedding. You're planning a surprise."

Christian, for his part, remained stony-faced and tight-lipped at yet another untimely interruption. He just hated the way Syed would turn on the smile for her, whenever she appeared; turn on the smile, when he answered his phone, to hear it was her on the other end, even though she couldn't see him. He could. And his heart would take another dive because he knew it meant their time together would always be cut short, in her favour, in order to appease her; that when Amira was on the scene, he would always come second.

"Yeah. That's what we were doing, when you came in…planning a surprise. Isn't that right, Christian?"

The sheer relief on Syed's face was palpable, which was perhaps what Christian found the most heartbreaking. And right at that moment, just a little hard to take; considering their intimacy just moments before and what he was going to dare risk saying; prompting the retort of dry sarcasm. "Yeah…we're full of _surprises_!"

It washed over Amira, of course but landed bang on where it was intended. The pair shot each other a testy look.

"And you want to know, the biggest surprise! Your fiancé and I…are having a love affair. Because, Amira…deep down, he's gay…and it's me he_ really_ wants. Yeah, we get 'down and dirty' as often as possible. And yeah…he is crackin awesome in bed."

He thought it; he so thought it and he so wanted to say it. But he knew it was only the frustration in him; the frustration of constantly having to be careful what he said, how he behaved around Syed now, when others were there; of constantly having to bite his tongue. It was frustration, it was jealously and yes…it was love that was making him behave this way. And he couldn't stay here another minute.

"Well, I see I'm not needed any more. So…if you'll excuse me…"

"Opps, hope it wasn't anything I said," Amira giggled.

"What!" Syed could only watch helplessly as Christian left, wanting so desperately but not having the courage to call him back.

"Hope I haven't ruined what you two were planning."

"Yes. I…I mean, no," Syed flustered and then fixed a smile. "Of course not, Princess. I…just wanted to let him know…how things…were progressing! We weren't…planning on staying long anyway."

"Oh good. Well now you are here…what I really need to talk to you about, Syed is……."

But he was only half listening and now had to endure Amira wittering on about some dance or other.

The following afternoon, Christian was already working in the Unit when Syed came in.

Glancing furtively towards the office, to make sure his mother stayed where she was, he adjusted his apron. "Sorry about, yesterday…not being able to meet up again. But you know…Amira…!"

"Yeah…I know," the Walford caterer returned dejectedly, then took a measured breath. "So…you hear anything…!"

Syed shook his head.

The next while was spent in work; chopping and dicing, stirring and preparing and with Zainab hovering in the background, there was little or no time for talk. It was Zainab though, who was to prove unwittingly useful with her next interruption!

"Syed, I forgot to bring the Accounts Book in. Would you go home and get it for me, please. Oh and would you pleeease stop by the café on your way back and get me one of those…." And here, she practically salivated. "….big custard tarts."

The two boys shared an amused grin; few and far between these days.

"Sure you wouldn't rather have a fairy cake instead, Zainab?" Christian couldn't help ask, cheekily.

She shot him her speciality droll look. "No, Christian…I _would not_ _rather have a_ _fairy cake_. A custard tart is what I want…and a custard tart is what I'm going to have."

The strapping EastEnder held up his hands in mock defence. "Never argue with a pregnant lady, that's what I say. And…guess it beats jellied eels and ice-cream!"

"Or a chop," Syed smiled in amusement. "Okay, I'm on my way." Taking off his apron, he gave Christian that sexy eye-brow raise.

"Don't be long," she called out after him.

And it was then, Christian realised his chance. It was time for positive action.

Syed had left his phone in his apron pocket, so while Zainab was again occupied in the office, he quietly retrieved it and set about accessing the text messages. As he did, the phone indicated a new one had just come in; which had him grimace and glancing furtively towards the office, in case Zainab had heard. She hadn't.

He stared at the screen, for what felt like ages, before finally letting out a breath; a breath of disbelief at what he read, at what it had to mean. It couldn't be; surely it couldn't be. But in his heart, he knew; there was just no other explanation.

He was so engrossed he didn't hear Zainab come in.

"Christian…how far are we with that last batch?"

With his back to her, he was quietly able to slip the phone into his pocket without her seeing. He half turned, to greet her with a smile. "Almost done, Zainab…be finished by the time Syed gets back."

"Good, good. Then he can help clear up and help me with the accounts." And she went back to the office completely satisfied.

And that suited Christian perfectly well, for he had plans of his own for later which, didn't include the young Masood.

Once he was sure Zainab was safely settled back in the office, he pulled out the phone and resumed his intent, of sending back a reply. And all the while, as his thumb worked quickly over the keys, he desperately hoped he was wrong.

Once finished and having made sure the message was sent, he then deleted both; erasing all trace of the new text and reply. It wasn't that he wanted to deceive his young lover in any way; far from it. It was his intent only to protect him, to find out who was persecuting his lover like this; making his life hell and deal with it because he…_cared_. Alright…because he loved the man. Because he knew Syed would probably just go on giving in to the blackmailer's demands; to keep everything from coming out and he was just not prepared to let that happen any longer. And now, because he had to be sure first his suspicions were right. He put the phone back in his own pocket, just in case the 'blackmailer' should sent another message.

A short while later, Syed was back. Thankfully, there had been one last custard tart left in the Café, so his mother was now happily ensconced in the office with her 'guilty treat'. But as he came into the work area, he was clearly worried; patting at the apron pocket before he even put it on.

"You looking for this?" Christian asked, pulling Syed's phone out of his pocket.

The young man let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I thought I'd lost it somewhere outside."

"You left it in your apron." Christian lowered his voice, as he handed it over. "Thought I should keep it. Just in case…there was _a call_!"

"Good thinking…thanks. Forget my head, if it wasn't screwed on."

"And what a handsome head it is," the muscular caterer smiled flirtatiously.

And Christian left him coyly embarrassed yet again. He had a habit of coming out with such compliments, just off the cuff and he always knew that's when Christian was happiest. The man wore his heart on his sleeve and wasn't afraid to show it; not like him. It scared him sometimes though, never knowing just when Christian might throw 'one out there', yet he couldn't help be secretly thrilled.

A subtle glance at the clock, minutes later and Christian was peeling off his apron, coat and caterer's blue hat; telling Syed, "gotta run, got things to do". He paused a few steps later though and turned. "….Sy, try not to worry. Trust me…okay!"

And before Syed could even begin to wonder what Christian meant by that, he was gone.

**********

"You won't find it."

She jumped at the familiar gravel-toned voice. "Uhh….Uncle Christian! Wh…what are you doing here?"

"You won't find it, Lucy. There _is_ no money," he repeated dryly, his face a mask of stony anger.

He had been observing her for the past few minutes, as she rooted around in the bushes behind Arthur's Bench in the Square's communal garden.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about, Uncle Christian. I…I was looking for my phone. I thought I might have dropped it here."

"DON'T LIE TO ME, LUCY….." And he was just getting started; just getting wound up nicely, when…!

"Are you alright, dear? Is this man _bothering_ you?"

He knew that look; that look of utter distain. He had got it often enough from those who took the moral high ground and appointed themselves as the only 'keepers of decency'; as judge, jury…and executioner, if they could get away with it. And he was getting it now from this woman; prim and proper, in her mid-fifties, taking it upon herself to intervene in something she knew nothing about; something that was none of her business. It was obvious she thought him some sort of degenerate pervert and it grated on him. Nevertheless, he tried to be polite.

"Excuse me. I am her uncle…and this is _a private_ conversation."

The look again said it all, as if the word 'uncle' somehow, had dirty connotations.

"Yeah…he's my uncle. Now, bugger off, you nosey cow."

Christian forced a smile. "Stroppy teenagers, eh!"

"Well…really." And 'Mrs Do-Gooder' flounced off.

Much as he may have secretly agreed with his step-niece's sentiment, in seeing off 'Mrs Do-Gooder', it wasn't going to make him any more favourable towards her. He was just too angry for that right now and in truth, Lucy really didn't expect him to be anything else.

By now, they were sitting on the seat; Christian hunched forward, his face a study of serious anger and Lucy, pensive and wondering just what he knew.

"I know you were looking for the money, Lucy. I saw the text on Syed's phone. I know because….." And here, he turned to look at her. "….it was me that sent the reply. And…here you are!"

His mind went back, first to what he had read.

_Nice bracelet, Bad Boy._

_Does Amira know!_

_Does mummy know who_

_gave it to you!_

And his reply.

_Plz don't tell._

_I'll leave £100_

_in the bushes behind_

_Arthur's Bench in 1 hr._

"Oh, bugger…the bracelet!" she muttered.

"Yeah, Lucy…the bracelet. You looked in the box, didn't you? You saw the bracelet…in the flat…when you came round, just after I got back with it, didn't you?"

There was silence.

"DIDN'T YOU?" he asked again more forcefully, making her jump and eliciting a shaky "y…yes".

Christian closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "And then you saw Syed wearing it. That's how I knew it was you. God, Lucy…I didn't want to believe it. I so didn't want to believe it was you. And I _confided_ in you, Lucy…told you about 'that special person'…what I wanted, what the problem was…." He turned to look at her again, heartbreaking disbelief clouding the handsome features. "……and all the time…all the time, you knew. You knew it was Syed…you knew we were together. It was you that had seen us."

"I…I know and I'm sorry, Uncle Christian….."

"Sorry. YOU'RE SORRY! But why, Lucy? Why, for god's sake?"

"I know how unhappy you've been. And I just thought…."

All the time, Christian was turning the broad-banded ring on his finger. "What, Luce…what'd you think? That the way to make me happy was to persecute the man I…." He paused and then took a breath. "You know, it's not long ago, people like me had to hide what they were….afraid to be ourselves, in case we were locked up…_beaten_…remember, Luce….or left ourselves open…to blackmail!"

"It wasn't like that. I just thought…if I put a bit of pressure on him…."

"PRESSURE!"

It was inevitable the youngster would start to feel defensive at some point. "He was stringing you along…acting like a coward…"

"What do you know about it, Luce? I mean…what do you know about anything?"

"I did it for you."

His anger was far from dissipated. "DON'T LIE. You did it for yourself…and you did it for…money! Now, whatever Syed is…or isn't, whomever he loves…or doesn't…it is for him to decide. Not you…not me, him. You got that? YOU GOT THAT?" he repeated again, when there was no immediate answer and making her flinch.

"Yes."

Christian drew a deep measured breath and held out his hand. "Okay, give it me." He turned to look at her. "The phone, Lucy…give it to me."

"Wh…what are you going to do?"

He remained silent, continuing to hold out his hand, until the youngster was compelled to hand over the phone.

"This it? The phone that all the texts were sent on…the picture was taken with?"

And she couldn't now help but be embarrassed. "Em, no…it's…it's a new phone."

"Didn't wasted much time, did ya, Luce…spending your ill-gotten gains!" The tone was heavy with sarcasm. "But it is the same 'sim', right?"

She nodded. And when he started opening up the phone, her eyes went wide. "Uncle Christian…what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Lucy?" He took out the small 'sim' card, pocketed it, put the phone back together and handed it back. "Oh…and I suggest you get back whatever money you can for it…because you're going to pay back Syed, every penny you took from him.

"But…but I won't get what I paid for it and…."

"Then I suggest you work your little ass off in the Café, until it's all paid back. I don't care how long it takes." Another breath, because he hadn't finished yet. "And the picture…it's still stored on your laptop?"

She nodded.

"Then you'll bring it round to the flat later…and you'll delete it. I want to _see_ you delete it." He got up. "You know, I can't even bear to look at you any longer. You make me sick."

Lucy swallowed hard. She had never seen Christian this angry. He was the one person she truly did like; the one she felt she could go to, if she needed to talk; to stay over even in his flat, if she needed space. But now she had made him angry and she was truly regretting her actions.

"Are you going to tell him?"

He stopped and pondered for a moment, then turned. "You'll have to wait and see, eh. Taste of your own medicine."

It was done. Christian turned and walked away.

**********

"You know who it was! You know who's been doing this!"

To say Syed was a little irritable, on first hearing Christian had gone ahead on his own initiative and dealt with the 'blackmailer', only to then not tell him who it was, was an understatement. But he had pressed and pressed, until the hunky caterer finally told him. Christian could understand, to some degree but it hadn't exactly been a picnic for him either; finding out it was someone from his own family, or as near as and it had truly sickened him. He thought Syed would have been just glad it was all over and there was nothing more to worry about.

Eventually, both calmed down though and were able to appreciate just how hard it had been for the other.

"You really think she'll keep her mouth shut?" Syed asked hopefully.

"She will, Sy…she will. I've read her the riot act and she knows she's done wrong. And she'll pay the money back…I'm seeing to that."

The younger man nodded. "Well…I suppose I should get going then."

"Aren't you going to stay awhile?"

Syed fidgeted awkwardly. "No. I…eh…I need to get going. Amira will be waiting."

And Christian felt that all too familiar stab of pain; forcing a tight smile, as he watched his young lover leave the flat. "Yes, of course."

He had damn near begged Syed to stay; something he'd promised himself he'd never do. He'd never begged any man in his life, bar being in the throes of heightened passion but that is what this dark and sultry, beautiful young man was almost reducing him to. So, another lonely night spent because…it was all that was on offer.

The following morning, Christian had picked himself up, dusted himself down and went to the Unit to begin work. It was a new day; perhaps things would be different. Today, they were free of the blackmail; Syed was free from the worry of any more 'texts' and not knowing who they were from. Yes, today was a new day and maybe they could begin to relax a bit more.

Luckily they had the place to themselves when Syed arrived and with Christian already having done an hour's work, he felt entitled to a little break. So, when Syed came into the work area, donning his hair-net cap, Christian, from behind, playfully slid his arms around the young Masood's waist and began pressing kisses to his neck.

"Hmmm…even with these hideous outfits Ian makes us wear, I still fancy ya. You're still the most incredibly beautiful man I know."

It definitely took all of Syed's resolve at that point to resist and he skilfully shrugged out of Christian's embrace. "Christian…please, don't."

And he knew immediately there was something wrong, for he had been 'here' before. Hurt and perplexed, Christian tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"Sy…what is it? We're alone, aren't we? You know I'm not going to fool around like this, if we're not!"

"I know. It's…it's not that."

"Then what! Tell me, Syed…just tell me." The tightly clenched knot in his stomach though, just got a little tighter.

He didn't want to hurt this man he had come to have such deep feelings for; he didn't. He just didn't feel he had any other choice. Better to do it now. "I'm sorry, Christian. I just can't do this with you anymore. We have to stop…now."

His worst fears were realised and the breath was literally taken from his body. "……but why! I told you, Lucy was going to keep her mouth shut. We've nothing to worry about, Sy."

"Yeah….this time. But what about next time, Christian? What if somebody else sees us…and decides to have a go! And they're not so easily shut up!"

"Sy…you can't live your life by, 'what if's'. We'll be careful, okay?"

"We were careful…."

"Okay, more careful then," Christian assured; desperation, mixed with frustration, creeping into his voice. "Sy. Inside the flat, when it's just you and me…we work!"

"Yeah, Christian…inside the flat. But I still have to go there. People see me go often enough…and they might begin to wonder! And it's when we're outside…the way we look at each other."

"What! You don't want us to look at each other…we're supposed to ignore each other completely! Sy…it's because of the way we feel about each other."

"Exactly. You can't help the way you look at me. And I…I can't help the way I look at you. Someone's going to notice….someone who really doesn't give a damn whose lives they ruin."

"And you think, saying we're through, is gonna change all that! Sy…you know you can't just switch off your feelings like that. We tried…remember!"

"I know. But what else can I do, Christian? I just can't risk it anymore."

It was one last ditch attempt. "Look, Sy…I know you're scared, with all that's happened but I thought we were getting closer. We feel something for each other, we both know that. And yeah, it's scary…it's scary for me too. But isn't it worth hanging on to?"

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry, Christian."

Christian stiffened; feeling his whole world begin to crumble around him again. "Don't do this to me, Sy….not again."

"Don't do what?" Zainab's dry tone resounded from the entrance to the work area.


	3. Chapter 3

In Sickness and In Health

Chapter 3

There was an involuntary gasp from the two colleagues. They had clearly been overheard but to what extent!

"Well…don't do what?" Zainab asked again, in her usual dry tone. "And do you two have nothing better to do than…to just…stand around all day!"

Syed was clearly 'bricking it', as he shot a look of desperation to his older lover. With Christian just as clearly hurt by his latest decision, would his hunky caterer now take the chance and put an end to all this secrecy.

"Oh, it's just Syed here…feeling the need to give me the benefit of his _invaluable advice on relationships_…again," the older man intoned just as dryly, as he set about putting away some utensils, with the same 'vigour' as the 'you-had-some-sort-of-bump-to-the-head-Syed' conversation. "….and I just didn't want to hear it…that's all."

The young Masood let out a quiet sigh of relief. But the conversation was far from over.

"And what would my Syed know about _your kind of relationships_!"

He threw her a challenging glare. "If you mean, _gay_, Zainab…then just say it." He then turned his attention back to Syed, who was obviously still anxious as to what he might say. "…and…_he_ obviously knows nothing at all. Or he would know…they're not any different from any other relationship. Straight, gay…we fall in love just as easily as anyone else. And we end up getting hurt, just as easily. Now, if you'll excuse me. I've finished here…and I have a headache."

With that, he tore of his work clothes, bar the blue tee-shirt, quickly put on his shoes, grabbed his jacket from the coat stand in the office and left; leaving Syed to wonder if he was just talking generally or was being a little more personal, in his reference to 'falling in love'.

Was he! Is that what was going on with Christian! More than once now, he felt Christian was trying to tell him something important; something momentous, even for him. Whatever; he was sure of one thing. He had hurt Christian again. He could see it in his face, even though the strapping Londoner was trying to be stoic.

He wouldn't be surprised if Christian didn't want anything more to do with him now, after this; after the way he treated the man. Blowing hot and cold, then hot and now cold again; giving him hope…and then taking it away. He knew too, Christian felt deeply unhappy at being treated like nothing more than some 'dirty little secret', even though he tried to assure his older lover he wasn't. But if he was being truthful, isn't that exactly how he was treating Christian! He was keeping his 'relationship' with Christian secret and to many, most probably his family, that's how they would think of it too…as dirty and not in a good way either. So, perhaps it wouldn't be surprising if now Christian decided he'd had enough and wanted off this rollercoaster of emotional turmoil.

And as he absent-mindedly toyed with the bracelet on his wrist, he began to wonder if he had truly made the right decision.

"Headache….ha," Zainab snorted in derision. "….more like a hangover, if you ask me. Probably been out on the _pull_. You'd think he would have learnt his lesson…."

"Stop it, Ma…will you just leave it," Syed suddenly snapped, unable to help feeling defensive. "You're always having a go at him, so just…give it a rest, will you."

"Syed!"

"Sorry, Ma…I've got work to do." A heavy frown settled on the beautiful swarthy features and remained for the rest of the afternoon.

He didn't seem to notice or care that it had started to rain when he left the Unit; evidenced by the fact he hadn't even bothered to put on his jacket. As he walked down into Bridge Street, his mood had become as miserable as the grey Walford weather. People scurried here and there, taking no notice, minding their own business; their only concern, to get in out of the rain, some huddling in under the covers of the market stalls as best they could, in an effort to keep dry. By the time he got to the Café, he was soaked through; the work's blue tee-shirt, now plastered to him like a second skin, emphasizing every curve of muscle-toned body. And for someone who was self-admittedly vain about his hair, short and all as it was, he no longer cared now that the carefully styled front had sagged, sending water droplets dripping down his face.

"Blimey….must be rainin right 'cats n dogs' out there!" Bianca trilled from behind the counter.

"Yeah. Just a coffee please, Bianca."

When a day was as miserable as this, you definitely needed something to cheer you up so, when something as delectable as Christian Clarke in a thoroughly wet, clinging tee-shirt, walked through your door, you made the most of it.

"You should think about going in for one o' them there, wet tee-shirt competitions. I'd vote for ya," she leered appreciatively. "Wish my Rickkay could look like that…well, I say 'my Rickkay' …but he ain't my Rickkay no more, is he…not since that snotty-nose cow came back. Here, Christian …open this for us, will ya…." And she thrust a large catering size tin of coffee in his direction. "….I need a man with gorgeous muscles…."

"_Give it 'ere. What you need…is a man."_ The playful memory now stabbed like a hot pain. He'd enjoyed winding Syed up that day, in the Unit. Making him jealous, with his talk of 'Mark' and Syed throwing 'Marty' back at him, like it was so unimportant, he didn't even remember the name. And then, the 'passive/aggressive' that lead to the food fight, that eventually led to them talking. Yes, there were so many memories and each one now just made him realise how much he was already missing the younger man.

"…..my Rickkay could look like that, ya know….he could have muscles like…."

He realised she was still wittering on. "What!"

"_I said_…my Rickkay could have muscles like that…if he really wanted…which he doesn't…but if he did…."

He'd had enough. If he hadn't had a headache before, he sure as hell would have one now.

"You know what…just forget it." And he turned and left.

"But I got all this here boiled up and everyfink," Bianca shouted after him. "Well, fanks a lot, Christian. Now, love…what can I get ya?"

He thought for a moment, of going into the Vic but knew he wouldn't be able to take the 'grilling' Roxy would give him, if she was serving behind the bar. And she would, eventually; when she'd stop talking about herself and her problems long enough. Because she'd see it in his face that something was up and the mood he was in now, all his unhappiness was liable to spill out. Good mate and all as she was, he wasn't ready for that, yet. So, he headed back to the flat.

Peeling off his wet clothes, he stepped into the shower; the cold eventually leaving his body, as he allowed the hot water to soothe and caress him. But even here there were too many memories, beautiful memories of hot, intense and beautiful shower sex, so he didn't linger; denying himself the 'hard-on' he knew would easily come.

Instead, he padded out into the lounge, wrapped in a short towel slung low on his hips with another rolled towel draped round his neck and poured himself a shot of neat scotch. He downed it in one. And it was just the one shot. Oh, he could quite easily have had another and another but he was damned now, if he'd let Syed Masood turn him into some sort of desperate alcoholic. Been there, done that before, after the engagement party and look where it got him! No, he wouldn't go there again. At least, not just yet! He would probably save that for the 'mother of all' binges, in which to get totally plastered, if Syed went ahead with this sham marriage.

Slumping down heavily onto the sofa, Christian leant forward and buried his face in the towel.

What had gone wrong! He was damned if he knew. Hadn't they been growing ever closer; in spite of this horrible blackmail affair! Syed had been in a mess and needing him, depending on his strength and being there for him. And he was. And when they had hugged and his young lover had clung to him, he felt like they had never been closer. Now this! Now that it was all over, Syed was pushing him away! He should be angry but he couldn't. All he could feel was the aching void of loneliness and despair.

And he wasn't the only one. It was clear they were both deeply unhappy, with Zainab even having to remind them, at their next catering function, to smile; that they were in the hospitality business and she did not want them spoiling the occasion for their clients or driving away potential future business, with their long faces. So, with great effort, they fixed a smile and got on with it.

Amira had begun to notice too.

"…..and maybe we should have some of those. What do you think, Syed? Syed! You haven't been listening to a thing I've said."

"What?"

"I've been trying to talk to you about the wedding, _our wedding_. There's still things we need….."

"Can't we give it a rest, Amira…just for a while."

"But it's not that far away now, Syed….."

Did he need reminding!

"….and it won't just plan itself. I know Christian's been helping and he's been great…."

Yes, Christian had been great; in so many ways.

"….but I would still like us to be doing some things…together. After all, it is _our _wedding. And …you just don't seem to be all that excited, Syed."

"I am."

"Well, you don't look it…with that long face. And come to think of it, Christian's been 'Mr Grumpy' lately too. What is wrong with you both!"

Since he was hardly likely to tell her the truth, it got passed off as them being so busy at work they were just tired.

Christian wasn't faring too well either.

As Jane entered the café to start her shift, the part-time girl already there nodded to a forlorn figure sat in the corner, hunched over the mug of coffee he was gripping and staring aimlessly.

"How long has he been here, this time?"

"Ages", the girl told her and after assuring Jane that she could cope for another while, they weren't that busy, Jane headed over to the table.

"Here, looks like you could use a fresh one of these." And a steaming mug of fresh, hot coffee was set down in front of him. It was the totally lost look in her brother's eyes that made her sit down with a heavy sigh. "Oh, Christian…what is it? You've been like this for days."

He shrugged. "It…it's nothing."

"Doesn't look like it." Searching for a reason, a thought then suddenly occurred to her. "Is it James?"

"What!"

"You know, I never understood why you two broke up…after only just getting together, finally. I thought you two were such good friends…."

"And that's the way it should've stayed."

Off course then, she totally misread the situation. "It's probably not too late to make amends, you know. I'm sure James…."

"It's not James okay, Jane. It would never be anything more than friendship between us…not for me anyway. I made a mistake being with him and I hurt him, I know that. But…it's not James."

"Then what….?"

"Janey…I don't want to talk about it. It's…it's complicated, okay!"

Janey. He hadn't called her that in a long time, not since they were kids. And that's how she knew he was really hurting. Her little brother would call her that when he hurt himself and turned to her for comfort; since their mother wasn't exactly the 'mothering' kind. And later, when things got so bad at home that he'd had to leave because their parents wouldn't accept his being gay.

He had tried to pretend it was nothing, no big deal; that it didn't hurt, just like he was doing now but she knew different. She also knew, if her brother didn't want to talk then it would be hard to make him, though if she pushed hard enough, she'd probably get him to crack. Sometimes, brothers needed that; a bit of a push. Stubborn, macho brothers especially; his recent attack being a good example. He had been 'shirty' and annoyed when he found out she knew, after coming round to see him but had eventually accepted her comfort, along with the emotional confession of wishing he were straight; which, of course, she didn't buy for one minute.

But she didn't want to do that; not this time. He looked too lost and alone for that right now. She was there for him, if he needed her comfort and she knew he knew that. So, all she could do was leave him to it and besides, there were more customers coming in.

"Look, I've…eh…got to get back to work." Sadly, she stood, pushed the fresh hot mug of coffee towards him, took the other and giving his arm a squeeze, went back behind the counter to begin serving.

A short time later, there was a lull and things slacked off; conveniently as it happens, for just then Zainab came in.

"Hi, Zainab. What can I get you?"

"Just a tea please, Jane."

"What! No custard tart!" Jane grinned mischievously. "…kept one back especially."

"No, not today, Jane….just a tea."

And it was clear, as she lifted the tea-pot and started pouring that the normally feisty business woman had something on her mind. "What's up with you? Mas just being his usual cheery self. Or…has Tamwar been adding to his 'RudeMasood'?"

"That boy…," she snorted disapprovingly. "….what made him think of doing such a thing. He'll have us in trouble if any of them find out."

"Oh, Zainab…it's harmless. He showed me. It's funny…and Tamwar does have a talent for it."

"Yes, yes…that's as maybe," she flustered, though not very convincingly. "But no, it's not Tam, or Mas…it's Syed. I don't know what's going on. You'd think he'd be happy, excited, with the wedding coming up…but no. He's been so moody…and grouchy all week."

"Join 'the club'. I've got 'Mr Moody Chops' over there." And Zainab followed her gaze to where Christian sat, still hunched over his coffee. "I don't know what's got into him either. He came in here the other day, soaked to the skin…been out walking, in all that rain. I had to tell him to get home and get his wet things off…before he caught his death. It was like he didn't care. And Bianca said he'd been in before, last week…absolutely drenched." She shook her head. "I don't know."

"That's exactly the same as my Syed. I had to tell him that too…_and_ he's not been eating properly either." A thought then came to her and she leant forward, lowering her voice a little. "You know, come to think of it…they had _'words'_ last week."

"Who…Syed and Amira! I wouldn't worry too much, Zainab. Most young couples…."

"No, no, no," Zainab tutted impatiently. "Not Syed and Amira. Syed and Christian!"

"What! Those two!" Jane couldn't help being mildly amused. "I know our Christian can be a bit 'full on', at times…."

"Tell me about it," Zainab 'deadpanned' dryly, as only she could.

Jane shot the woman a quick glare, in defence of her brother before continuing. "….but they get on. Never heard a cross word between them."

She was obviously never there at the 'right' moment then, was she!

"Well, I'm telling you. They had _'words'_…and just last week. I heard them. And now that I think about it…they haven't been the same since. You know, I had to even tell them at that council function we did…to smile…that we might not get booked again because they were being so miserable!"

Jane was a little more curious now. "Do you know what it was about?"

Zainab now took almost gossipy delight, as she leant forward a little more. "Well, I didn't hear it all…just the last bit. Christian said something like, "Don't do this to me, again"."

"I wonder what he meant by that!"

"Something about Syed giving him advice on relationships….and he didn't want to hear it…"

At that, Jane had to put a hand to her mouth, to stifle the snigger of a laugh. "I'm…I'm sorry, Zainab. But Syed…giving our Christian, _advice_…_on relationships!_"

"And what is so funny about that?" the businesswoman frowned indignantly.

"It's just…our Christian has had more relationships than I'm sure your Syed has had hot dinners…"

"Yes exactly…and just look at where _that kind_ of promiscuous_ lifestyle _got him!" Zainab replied, wrinkling her nose in obvious disapproval, as if suddenly catching a bad smell. Jane's mouth flapped open but the woman was already off on her moralistic crusade. "All I'm saying, Jane, is…my Syed knows what it is to be in a 'proper' relationship…as it is meant to be….as it _should_ be."

"No wonder Christian didn't want to hear it then," Jane muttered to herself.

"What!"

"Oh, nothing," she replied lightly, fixing a smile. "Look, Zainab…you may not approve but it's who our Christian is. He can't help who he's attracted to…anymore than…you or I can. And when you think about it…a relationship's _a relationship_…no matter who it's between. They can fall in love and be happy, just like anyone else…and get just as easily hurt too."

"Now that you mention it…that's just what Christian said," the Masood businesswoman admitted, a little more thoughtfully.

"Really!"

Jane cast a look in her brother's direction…and wondered. Just what had Syed said to him and what had gone on between them, to leave Christian so lost and miserable like this! This wasn't like him at all for normally he wouldn't take such things said to him, lying down but would be up for the fight. And what had prompted him too, to be so candid about relationships and being easily hurt! Christian had never been so up front before. Except though for when she had seen him at his lowest, just after the attack, when he had said, it was times like these he wished he was 'straight'. She knew of course, deep down, he didn't actually mean it; that he could no more be 'straight' than she could be 'bent' to a different persuasion. But something had prompted him to issue such a heartbreaking declaration then and she wasn't entirely sure it was just to do with one more homophobic attack.

But now that she thought of it too, he hadn't just been like this over the past week. He had been moody and more reflective over the past few months. Right here in the café; one minute happy, the next, miserable and picking over his food, then wishing he was 'straight', not wanting to go to the 'small businesses awards do', not really even being that happy when he was with James and then breaking it off so quickly. It all made for one very unhappy brother. Yes, something was going on with him.

So, it obviously mattered to him, a lot, what Syed had said; probably because they were friends. Perhaps it was the fact the young man was happily, at least she thought so, engaged; being roped into engagement and wedding plans and it just made him realise how alone he was; that maybe life was passing him by, without that special someone!

But then, according to Zainab, Syed was feeling it just the same, was feeling just as miserable. So, just what was going on between them!

Before she could ponder anymore though, Christian got up and left the table, acknowledging Zainab with only the saddest of smiles. "Thanks for the coffee, Jane."

"Christian!"

But with the hint of a cough, he was gone.

"See what I mean!" Zainab remarked.

Jane sighed. "Well, whatever it is…I'm sure they'll sort it out."

"I hope so…before they drive away all our business," the astute businesswoman added dryly.

**********

It was cold, damp and grey, that late autumn day; perfectly suiting the dark and unbearable misery of his soul, as he stood by the open grave.

The vicar's solemn words then rang out, shattering the stillness.

"We are gathered here today, to lay the remains of our dear brother, Christian Clarke, to rest; to commit his body to the ground……."


	4. Chapter 4

In Sickness and In Health

Chapter 4

"….in sure and certain hope……" The vicar's solemn words continued in the background.

"This is all your fault," Lucy hissed. "All he was to you was just some _dirty little secret_."

"She's right," he heard Roxy Mitchell agree.

"No. No…please don't. Not true."

"Isn't it, Syed?" Jane's voice rang in his head. "He was worth more than that…and _you_ broke his heart."

"Yeah, you did…you broke his heart. This is your fault…all your fault," Lucy hissed again.

Attention was drawn back to the vicar, as his voice came to the fore again.

"….a much loved brother, a kind and caring uncle. He was generous and giving, loved by the friends who knew him…and above all…." Here, the vicar turned and in what seemed like slow-motion, fixed him with a cold and accusatory stare. "…_someone's 'dirty little secret'."_

Accusing eyes all turned in his direction.

This is your fault…your fault… You broke his heart…dirty little secret… Worth more than that… Your fault…broke his heart….

The accusations rang in his head, until he could take no more.

He dropped to his knees; heart-sore and face streaked with tears. His agony was complete. "NOOOO…nooo… Christian, I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. Didn't mean….Christian, I'm sorry."

**********

He was thankful for the day off. One more day, not to have to be around Syed, pretending they were coping; that they had accepted the situation and everything was alright, when it clearly wasn't. Christian had just finished making himself a coffee and brought it over to the sofa, intending to have a read at a magazine he wasn't really all that interested in.

He hadn't much of an interest in anything these days. They had worked another function on the previous Friday afternoon and that evening an old mate had rung, wanting him to go out 'clubbing' over the weekend. And he'd surprised even himself, when he turned down the invitation. Just couldn't face it; not then anyway. Perhaps it just reminded him too much of his old care-free ways, before there was Syed and what he'd started to feel for him; when he thought nothing of partying away a weekend and bedding that weekend's particular 'hottie'; any number of which were available and always willing. He had got to the stage and even told Syed, in their early days, that he no longer wanted an endless stream of one-night stands but a lasting and meaningful relationship. And he meant it. Though admittedly, he had disappeared for weekend just recently; 'rockin in Vauxhall', after feeling down about the 'Small Business Awards' dinner and Syed then not being able to get a hold of him when panicked about 'Bad Boy' being sprayed on his door. He had 'rocked it' but indulged in nothing more than a few drunken kisses; sleeping it off then, on a mate's sofa…alone. That definitely wouldn't have happened before there was Syed. But there may come a time, when he would be grateful for a 'lost' weekend or two; just too completely 'lose' himself in!

It was well into the afternoon now, when his phone rang and picking it up off the table, his eyes rolled on seeing the 'caller display'. He had thought seriously about not answering it, sure he knew what would be wanted of him; so much so, he casually tossed it onto the sofa beside him. He did not want to talk 'wedding', discuss 'wedding', even think about this wedding right now. And he especially did not want to hear that dreaded name, 'Fronk'.

But it kept on ringing.

"What'd you want, Amira?"

"Awww, Christian…you sound just about as _happy_ as Syed!"

"Yeah well, it's been that kind of week. Look, Amira…I'm really not in the mood for talking wedding arrangements. Some other time, eh!" Though 'never' would be too soon for him.

"No…it's nothing to do with the wedding," she continued, seeming to totally ignore how he sounded.

"What then?"

"It's Syed."

The very mention of the name made him draw breath and fill him with all kinds of mixed emotion.

He forced himself to be composed though and hoped to god, she wasn't going to ask him for any advice, especially if it was to do with physical intimacy. "What about him?"

"Weeell…it's just, he seems all sweaty….!"

"Too much information, darlin," he returned, with dour dryness.

Sweat on Syed though, was a good thing. But only with him; because then it meant they'd had another highly-charged, testosterone-fuelled 'make-out' session! Even with long and lingering love-making, their skin would be left glowing, simply because of their 'effort' and because, once aroused, they wouldn't stop, couldn't stop until 'satisfied'.

"Nooo, not like _that_! Christian…you are naughty," Amira giggled, in girly fashion. "No, I think he has a cold."

Christian was not impressed. "A cold. You called to _tell me_…Syed has _a cold_! So…just what is it you expect me to do!"

"Well, you're my 'Fronk'….."

Christian's jaw set tight.

"…I thought you could come round and take a look!"

He liked Amira; he really did but sometimes the girl's uselessness in such simple things just defied belief. The girl didn't even know how to use an iron!

"_D'you know how to use this thing?"_

"_You tellin me, you've never used an iron before!"_

"_That's what dry-cleaners are for, isn't it!"_ she had dead-panned.

If her only use for it was to 'iron' her hair because her hair-straighteners were broken then, he rested his case!

"If it's just a cold, Amira….! Anyway, why not call Zainab…she's going to be your mother-in-law, isn't she?"

It wasn't that he was unfeeling but for just a few sniffles, he was sure Syed wouldn't appreciate his intervention. The boy could be 'prickly' enough at the best of times and with the way things were now between them!

"You_ are_ joking!" the young woman replied dryly and Christian could just see her eyes rolling. "She thinks I'm useless enough as it is!"

It wasn't often he agreed with his 'nemeses' but…! Christian drew a deep breath; drawing on all his patience. "Okay, okay, give him…give him a couple of tablets…or a hot drink or something. He'll be fine."

But she pulled out her best, 'little Miss Helpless'. "Oh pleeeease, Christian…couldn't you just come round? You're so much better at all these things than I am…."

He should have seen that coming and had to shake his head like, 'am I _that_ easily flattered', do I really have 'mug' written across my forehead! Of course, she had pulled that stunt before; roping him back into the engagement arrangements when he had wanted nothing more to do with it. _"Ohh, you're good,"_ he'd told her and she was. She was a natural; it came as easily to her as breathing. She truly was, 'daddy's little princess'.

"….besides, it's you he keeps calling for."

Now _that _did get his attention.

"What! What do you mean, Amira?"

"Well, he fell asleep on the sofa earlier and now he's started mumbling…"

Syed, _talking_ in his sleep! Cute and adorable as that sounded, it probably was not a good thing; especially if _his_ name was obviously being mentioned. Amira though, didn't sound as if she was hearing anything 'incriminating'.

"…he just keeps saying your name over and over and saying he's sorry…he didn't mean it. What's that all about, Christian?"

He was thrown for a moment but quickly composed himself.

"We…eh…we had, 'words'…but it's…it's nothing. Look, I'm on my way, okay?"

From the moment he entered the room, in Amira's flat, he was concerned.

Syed was tossing restlessly on the sofa and did indeed sound as if he was mumbling. Christian was at his side in an instant and could now see that his young lover's skin was clammy, sweat beading on his forehead and what sounded like a wheezing in his chest, every time he breathed. Whatever had happened and was not 'happening' now, with his 'hot/cold, on again/off again' young lover, was immediately forgotten, with the realisation Syed did look ill.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Christian laid the back of his hand against Syed's brow; his own brow now creased in a heavy frown. "Amira…I thought you said he just had _a cold_!"

"Hasn't he!"

"No. He has a temperature."

"Well, what would I know! See! That's why I need my 'Fronk' here."

Another patient breath. "Okay. Go get me a cloth…we need to try and cool him down a little." Christian then turned his attention back to the restless young man and quietly sighed. "Aw, baby…I should've known you'd make yourself ill." He then began gently stroking his face to rouse him. "Sy, it's me…Christian. Come on, baby…wake up."

He knew that voice, that accent; that rich gravel-toned husk. It was as familiar to him as his own heartbeat, as much a part of him as his life's breath…and he didn't think he'd ever hear it again. Was it his imagination; born of guilt and just sheer desperation to cling to any last vestige of the man!

Yet there it was again, reaching down into his foggy haze. "Ch…Christian….!"

Forcing himself to focus, he was met by a beautiful but concerned smile.

"Yeah, babe…I'm here." Tenderly, Christian brushed back damp tendrils of the luscious dark locks from off the young man's brow; swallowing back the rising well of emotion at seeing those beautiful deep brown eyes now red-rimmed and watery with pain.

Just then a cloth was thrust at him, with a triumphant, "Here."

Christian reached for it but had to close his eyes momentarily, to draw on another patient breath. "Amira…it's dry, babe. It needs to be squeezed out in tepid water…to cool him down….!"

"Well, you should have said you wanted it wet," she pouted indignantly.

"…and _that's_ a dishcloth! I think we'd be better off with a facecloth, babe."

With Amira off to complete her task once more, this time with more detailed instructions, Christian turned his attention back again, to where it was most needed.

"Hey, how you feelin?"

He had started to feel tired and achy not long after getting to Amira's flat, so had lain down on the sofa for a bit of a sleep, thinking that was all he needed. He had been working hard, had thrown himself into a lot more extra work, in an effort to forget. Now that he was awake, he was feeling wretched; which only served to make him more emotional. And on seeing those beautiful chiselled features, with his sea-green eyes, swim into focus; the emotion spilled over, along with the tears.

"Ch…Christian…is it really you? You're here…you're really here?"

"Yeah, Sy…it's me. Hey, what is it?"

"I…I thought…I thought you were dead…."

Christian's eyes widened a little in surprise. But he instantly reassured his obviously ill young lover. "No, babe no…I'm not dead. Why would you think…..?"

"There was ….a funeral. I…I was there. Watched them…bury…. You were gone….all my fault…. They all said…my fault…."

Realisation then dawned on the Walford caterer. Christian cupped the young Masood's face; tenderly thumbing his cheek. "Ssshh…it's okay now. It was just a dream, baby…just a bad dream…"

"It was…so real…"

"I'm alive…I promise you. And I'm here for you," he then added in whisper.

Syed reached up to clasp his hand over Christian's. He just needed to touch him, wanting to reassure himself that this wasn't a dream and Christian really was alive and here, with him. "I'm sorry…sorry, Christian. I didn't mean it…don't want to push you away."

It was clear Syed was feeling emotional and he would have to have had a heart of stone not to be totally melted by those pained and watery brown eyes. He didn't and he was. Christian could feel himself welling up. "I know, babe. But it's okay now…"

"You two made it up again. Aww, that's nice. Here, Christian…will this do?" And Amira thrust a now cooled facecloth in his direction.

Seeing Syed's momentary look of anxiety! "Told her, we just had a bit of a 'spat'…but we're good now." Taking the cloth and giving his lover a quiet smile of reassurance, Christian began bathing his face. "Now, tell me how you're feeling?"

"Feels like…like someone's beating a drum in…in my head….a _really big_ drum. And really loud. Hot…and a bit shivery. Throat's sore….chest hurts a bit now too."

Christian gave him a sympathetic smile, as he continued to dab around his face. "Hmm….sounds like flu."

"You don't think it's that 'swine flu', do you!" Amira chirped in and sounding a little concerned. Only it wasn't quite to be in the way Christian expected!

"I'd say it's a safe bet." Christian returned his attention to his ill lover, sliding an arm under the young man, to help raise him up. "Come on…we need to get you into bed and make you more comfortable. Then we can get Doctor Al to come take a look at you."

The look on Amira's face was a picture. "You don't mean _here!_"

"Well yeah…here, Amira. Where do you think?"

"Emmmm, you couldn't take him…somewhere…else..!" Amira 'suggested', with a little wince.

"What!" He surely couldn't have heard right…could he!

"It's just…I don't _do_ 'sick'."

Under any other circumstances that might have been laughable.

"What do you mean…you _don't do_ 'sick'!"

"I'm just not very good around _sick_ people. Syed knows that…don't you, Syed?"

Christian wasn't entirely sure he did and felt completely gutted for his young lover. Syed was actually intending to commit himself to this young woman and the first signs of illness he shows, she what! She doesn't _do _'sick'! Is this really what he wanted from his marriage! A partner who can't, or won't stand by him, when he needs it the most! It didn't bode well.

He shook his head in a laugh of disbelief. "I don't believe I'm hearing this! He's _your_ fiancée, Amira. Look at him for god's sake…he's ill. He needs looking after….now."

"Exactly…and I wouldn't have a clue. That's why you're here, isn't it!"

'Daddy's little princess' had an answer for everything.

"…and what if I got it too! I wouldn't be much use to him then, now would I!"

"Yes…I could see how that would be a _rea_l tragedy," Christian muttered; trying really hard not to let the sarcasm come spilling out. He failed miserably. But it didn't seem to matter for it just washed right over the young woman.

"See…I knew you'd understand. And besides, I'm sure he'd be much more comfortable at home, with Zainab looking after him."

Someone else could see Christian was getting angrier by the minute and the soft pleading of his name brought the hunky caterer's attention to where it was most needed.

"Yeah, Sy…okay," Christian nodded quietly.

It was testament to their deepening feelings for each other that it took barely a word or just a knowing look between them, to communicate; to fully understand each other.

Christian drew a deep breath. "You're right, Amira. He_ does_ need to be where he can be looked after properly. Get me his jacket, will you?"

"Think you can manage?" he then husked softly. And when Syed indicated he was willing to give it a go, Christian helped him sit upright; to gain his equilibrium before getting him to his feet.

It took a moment and Syed had to close his eyes briefly and swallow hard against the sudden nausea.

Of course, Christian was immediately attentive, seeing how decidedly pale he looked. "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah…just wish my head would stop pounding."

"Amira…you got any of those cold and flu tablets?"

"No, sorry," she winced with embarrassment.

Now why did that not surprise him!

"A glass of water then!" he asked stiffly and inwardly annoyed that it never even occurred to her to offer him such a basic necessity.

He really was trying not to be totally exasperated. Especially when, after handing her back the glass Syed had drunk from and he was so thirsty, Amira held it at arm's length, between thumb and forefinger, as though she were trying to have as little contact as possible. He half expected her to be wearing a bio-hazard suit; that it was contaminated by toxic nuclear waste!

"Come on…let's get this jacket on and get you out of here." And Christian went to help his ill lover put it on.

"Don't want to…too hot," Syed groused.

Christian couldn't help but smile adoringly at his petulant young lover. "I know. But it's cold outside, babe…we really need to put this on. Don't want you getting any worse."

"Oh no…not when we've still so much to do for this wedding," Amira chimed in, obviously thinking more of the total inconvenience of it all. "So, you just do what Christian tells you, babe."

Christian's jaw set tight.

It was the older man's quiet strength and powers of persuasion though that were just too much for Syed and he gave in without a fight. It hadn't always been that way, of course. He'd had to fight many a time against Christian's 'powers of persuasion'; '_that's a nasty bruise/want to kiss it better'_ being a prime example…but not this time.

The Walford caterer was feeling quite snarky now and no-one did 'snarky' better than Christian Clarke. He had long perfected it over the years, partly as a defence mechanism but mostly when he wasn't too happy with someone's attitude or behaviour, or when he felt they were just making excuses. As he helped Syed on with his jacket….!

"I take it there's no equivalent of 'in _sickness_ and in health' in your ceremony then, Amira?"

"Oh, Christian…you are funny…," she playfully reprimanded.

He wasn't laughing.

"….of course there is. But that's what _mother-in-laws_ are for…_isn't it!_" she drolled.

"I thought you said, on the phone….! You know what…never mind." Amira was obviously a law unto herself and would always change the 'rules' when it was most advantageous and he really couldn't be bothered now. He had more important things to take care of or rather, a more important someone. "Come on, hot-shot…let's get you _home._"

He had just raised Syed to his feet when the realisation of what he'd just said hit them; for both knew he wasn't referring to 41 Albert Square! _Home_! It had been another of those words that just slipped out and easily now for Christian, like 'boyfriend'; such was the effect this young man was having on him. But unlike 'boyfriend', this one had them sharing another of _those_ looks; the significance of that one innocent and innocuous little word and all that it implied, not lost on either of them.

Being on his feet now though, Syed felt more than a little shaky; like his legs had suddenly turned to jelly. And while it might have been tempting to think it was solely down to his sheer animal magnetism and the fact for Syed that he was being taken _home, _back to his place_,_ Christian was, in fact, a little more sensible. He knew it was more down to the symptoms of the flu than anything to do with him.

Again, Christian was instantly attentive. "Whoa there, cowboy. It's okay…I've got ya." And he wrapped a supportive arm around Syed's waist.

Ill and all as he was, Syed couldn't ignore the feeling of, once more, being held against that solid muscular body and the tremendous comfort he felt right at that moment. His only regret though; being so 'stuffed up', he couldn't breathe in the familiar, beautiful scent of the man. And for Christian too, suddenly having Syed against him again, holding him, touching him, was such an incredibly beautiful thing. It was all he could do to remember where he was and who else was here; all he could do to stop himself from taking this beautiful man in the deepest of kisses. It had been a long time for both of them, too long…and they both felt it.

But a cough from Syed brought them quickly back to the present and they headed for the door.

"Oh, Christian…what should I do? Should I disinfect the place!" Amira called out after him, as she looked around, wandering just where to start.

"Yeah, why don't you just do that, Amira," Christian returned dryly. He let the door bang shut and they were gone.

Even through the thickness of both their jackets, Christian could feel Syed shiver against him, as he helped the young man down the steps of the George St flat.

"You okay?"

Syed nodded and then wished he hadn't and even though it was already growing dark, just being outside was making his eyes hurt.

Christian instinctively tightened his supportive grip. "Just hang it there, babe…not far to go."

Now that he was walking, he was thinking and Syed, despite his shivering, could feel it bubbling up inside the older man. "I still can't believe it, Sy…that she could that…be so…so, indifferent! She could see how ill you are…and what! She _doesn't do _'sick'…..!"

"Christian….please…"

"Okay, okay, Sy."

But he just couldn't keep it in. As they got to the familiar blue door of 15a Turpin Rd, Syed could feel the anger bubbling up in his lover again.

"I just can't believe that girl! I'm tellin you, Sy….if she loved you _half as much_ as I do….."

The words hung in the chill of the late afternoon air.

Syed turned a weary face, to look up at him. But before either could say another word!

"SYED! Is that you! What is going on here?"

Christian drew in a deep breath and mentally prepared himself. "Zainab."

A/N: Sorry for the little deception there, at the end of the last chapter. Caught up now on the chapters, so hope you guys will be patient; especially with it coming up to Christmas. Just want to thank again, everyone who reads and reviews and hope you all continue to enjoy.


	5. Chapter 5

In Sickness and In Health

As usual, Christian, Syed and all the other characters belong to the producers of BBC's EastEnders.

Author's Note: Apologies for the long delay, just RL and a little thing called Christmas and New Year getting in the way. And well, haven't things moved on in the _real world_ of Christian and Syed! I'm almost sorry I didn't finish this before those wonderful but heartbreaking NY's episodes because now, I've got to try and put those out of my head and get back to my timeline! Anyway, I hope you can all still enjoy how this plays out.

Chapter 5

She had just left the Masala Queen Unit, having checked up on details of some future functions, when she had seen them; Christian approaching his flat, arm wrapped round some young man. It may have been growing dark already, with this time of year but it was still only late afternoon! Typical, that he would go openly flaunting it like that; obvious, to her anyway, as to just what Christian's intentions were. The man had no shame. He had clearly gotten over his bout of feeling miserable then!

Shaking her head in disapproval, she walked farther out into the street before realising there was something oddly familiar about the young man Christian had his arm around; the build, the jacket, the dark locks!

"SYED! Is that you! _What_ is going on here?"

"Zainab."

Christian had greeted her with a cursory use of her name which, in truth, didn't come as any great surprise, coming from that man. So, she just let it wash over her. Her only main concern! Just what was Christian doing with her son! And what was Syed thinking; letting himself be seen like this, with someone who was…well, someone like _Christian_!

Of course, now that she knew it was her son, she desperately fought down those first initial suspicions; steadfastly closed her mind to what she had first thought was 'obvious'. It couldn't be, she wouldn't let it be; not with her Syed. No, there had to be some other more _acceptable_ explanation. But on coming closer, she felt her fears were anything but allayed. She could see it in his face, or thought she did! Her son, her precious eldest son's eyes were bleary looking; glassy and unfocused and it looked like he would fall down had Christian not been holding him up.

"Syed! Are you drunk! Oh my god, he's drunk. Isn't it bad enough, I have _one alcoholic son _already, in the family……!"

While not exactly what any 'good' Muslim should be indulging in, she at least felt it was definitely the lesser of the two 'evils'!

He knew, of course before he'd even turned to face her, when he had first heard her call Syed's name, what that look on her face would be; what she would have been thinking before knowing it was Syed. And it was in her tone; the suspicion and subsequent accusation. While it didn't surprise him in the least that she should think the worst of him, it did irritate him and especially the mood he was in coming from Amira's, that she was automatically prepared to think the worst of her son.

"Why, Zee…it's not like you to be so quick to jump to conclusions," Christian snarked dryly. She shot him a _look_. "And no, he's not drunk… he's ill. I think he has flu."

The change was remarkable; like everything previously thought or said just never happened therefore, unsurprisingly, there came no apology. It must run in the family; that Zainab, like Syed can conveniently erase all they don't wish to remember!

"Flu! Oh, my poor Syed is sick. Well, why didn't you tell me….," she added, rounding on Christian. "…and why did you let me believe he was drunk!"

Christian drew in a deep breath, again drawing on all his patience. "I just did…..and I didn't!"

"Well, we have to get him home and get him into bed. He needs looking after…hot drinks and soup. I can make him some soup…yes, that's what he needs. Christian, can you please help me get him home."

But Christian immediately made a move to stop her coming any closer.

"Zainab…if it is flu, it's not a good idea for Syed to be at home right now. Or for you to be looking after him…not with you…expecting the baby," he suggested, indicating to her, now quite noticeable, 'bump'.

While it was true they 'enjoyed' a rather feisty relationship, a certain sharp edge in their tolerance of each other, Christian wasn't completely unsympathetic. It was clear that on seeing Syed was genuinely ill, she did care; she was a mother, first and foremost. Her instinct was to look after him and for that, he had the utmost respect. And it was respect for her situation of impending motherhood that Christian was concerned about now and had been, on realising how ill Syed was and Amira flatly refusing to look after him. Plus, it was a good excuse for Syed to be at his place, where he could take care of him. He had wanted to rage at Amira for that too, for not even thinking of Zainab's condition when suggesting his mother look after him but his priority had been Syed and getting him home as quickly as possible.

"He…he's right, Ma. I don't want…you to…to get this," Syed agreed, trying to stem the shivers.

A pained cough had him automatically bury his face against Christian's solid chest, which sent Christian into automatic protective mode, gripping him that little bit tighter; especially on feeling the young man sag against him.

"Look, Zainab, we can argue about this later but right now…we need to get him indoors, out of the cold and into bed. And then I'm calling the doctor."

And that she couldn't argue with. When all was said and done, she knew Christian was right and much to her surprise, found herself actually grateful for Christian's practical sensibility and no-nonsense, take-charge attitude.

She nodded. "I suppose you're right. Oh, here…give me those," she then added, fussing impatiently at seeing Christian trying to, one-handed, sort out the keys he had just fished from his pocket, while still having to keep a hold on her son.

For Christian, it amounted to nothing less than a small triumph; almost an acceptance and he couldn't help a quiet smile. "Eh, yeah…that one there," he informed, as she came to the key of the solid blue door.

It was almost inevitable that, leading the way upstairs, Zainab began to mull things over; like a regular little 'Miss Marple' in an Agatha Christie novel and just as tenacious.

"Weren't you at Amira's, Syed…didn't she see you weren't well? Why is Christian bringing you back to his place! Why isn't Amira looking after you?"

The silence was deafening.

Zainab though, was way ahead of the game and only had to look back at the pair, slowly climbing the stairs.

"Don't tell me," she returned dryly. "She didn't have a clue and called Christian to sort it all out…didn't want to soil her _pretty little hands_, looking after my son. _That _girl…really is useless…."

"That one there, Zainab," Christian interrupted.

"What!"

"The key to the flat, Zainab…that's the one."

"Oh, yes…yes okay."

She was spot on, of course and much as he may have agreed, he had quickly interrupted; purely for the sake of the ill young man at his side. It was not what Syed needed to deal with right now, nor did he need to be reminded.

Mind you, that wasn't going to stop the woman, now that she had started. It was a temporary lull, nothing more and she was still at it, on having let them into the flat. "….and don't think I don't know what's going to happen, once you two are married…."

Christian stiffened again; his body involuntarily tightening at the mention of what was, fast becoming to him, the '_unmentionable'_.

"….she'll expect me…."

"Yeah, thanks for your help, Zainab," Christian quickly interrupted again, while helping Syed out of his jacket. "…but now, you should go."

The black leather jacket got tossed haphazardly over the back of the sofa for, neat and tidy and all as Christian Clarke normally was, this was no time to be house-proud. Sure, he'd found James' untidiness, when he'd stayed here even for such a short time, somewhat _irritating_; irked, when with such casual disregard, James had swept everything off the table. Now! Now, he would gladly sweep everything off every surface for Syed Masood; if it was for his comfort. And he could deal with the jacket later anyway, along with anything else, when Syed had fallen asleep.

"Go! I'm not going anywhere…not until I hear what the doctor has to say."

A helpless look past between the pair but there was also a look from Syed that told Christian, he appreciated his trying.

Christian had just suggested then she close the vertical blinds, when Syed suddenly became a little 'green around the gills' and he started to wretch.

"…think I'm going…to be….."

It was hardly surprising. With the way Syed was feeling, he should have been put to bed right away, instead of having to be brought out into the cold and walked half way round Walford!

"Best get you to the bathroom. It's okay Zee, I've got him…I'll take care of this," Christian assured. And holding Syed in a firm grip of support, Christian led him to the bathroom, while Zainab could only stand by helplessly waiting; having to listen to the sounds of her son throwing up.

When they emerged, Syed was looking decidedly pale and a little shivery. Just as well then the bed was close by. Christian quickly pulled the covers back and lowered the ill young Masood gently down, to sit on the edge.

"He's alright, Zainab. Maybe you could get him a glass of water for me though…eh. There's a jug in the fridge."

"Yes…yes, of course." She was only too glad to be able to do something practical, at last, for her son and was again grateful for Christian's taking charge. "Oh and I called Doctor Jenkins. He says he'll get here as soon as he can."

Christian could feel his young lover's hands tremble, clasped now over his own, as he helped Syed drink from the glass. And locking gazes, they became lost in each other; immersed in their own private little world of silent conversation; perfected out of necessity for when others were present. It wasn't how they wanted it to be but they found themselves just being quietly grateful for the smallest contact; the legitimate touch of hands with each other's, fingers brushing against fingers, without arousing suspicion. And so desperately starved of each other's affection for so long, they even dared let their fingertips, just briefly, interlace.

It was beautiful and intimate. So reminiscent of that incredibly intense 'moment', the day of _that_ Sunday lunch; when they'd been alone in the kitchen and Christian had held Syed's hand so tenderly and lovingly after he'd cut his finger. And with everyone only mere feet away, including James; Christian's then time boyfriend! It was dangerous then and it was dangerous now, with Zainab not exactly a million miles away.

Unaware of course, the true nature of just what was going on between her son and the man that often tested her patience, by flouting everything she held sacred, Zainab could only observe now how caring Christian was; doing all he could to make sure her son was well looked after.

"You know…watching you with my son, how you are taking care of him! I almost think you'd make a better partner for him…"

The boys almost dropped the glass and Syed choked a little on the water.

Had Zainab had a bump to the head! Had they suddenly been transported to some sort of alternate universe! Or had a miracle just happened! Was Zainab relenting and willing now to change her views at last; seeing the beauty of what they had together!

If only!

"…but then, you're not a girl…_are you_!" she intoned dryly.

"And there was me thinking you'd suddenly become all enlightened, Zee," the Walford caterer intoned just as dryly.

"…and _you're not Muslim_."

She threw it, almost like an insult.

This was definitely one of those times Christian did not find her 'amusing'. Nostrils flaring and jaw tightened, he set the glass down a little harder than he normally would have, on the short wall separating the sleeping area. But no, he would not rise to the bait, much as he wanted to because despite the woman's obvious intolerance and willingness to wield her faith like a weapon, being Muslim did matter to Syed and he would not resort to disparaging remarks.

"Ma…pleeease."

"Oh, Syed….Christian knows it's not serious. Don't you, Christian?"

Oh, she was serious alright; letting him know, in her own _sweet_ inimitable way, what her views were and would always be; making sure he knew just exactly what barriers there would always be between them.

And besides, he couldn't resist those softly pleading, beautiful brown eyes. Eyes locked, he nodded quietly.

"Okay, babe…let's make you more comfortable and get you into bed."

The 'silent' conversation of their eyes continued, with the wealth of innuendo that lay in those few simple words. It was, after all, Christian's bed, their bed; the bed they'd made hot and steamy, beautiful and sensual love in countless times before!

Christian knelt to take of Syed's boots and socks.

"Babe! Did he just call you…_babe_!"

Syed almost couldn't drag his eyes away from his older lover's intense gaze…but he did.

"Ma…he calls everybody 'babe'," he sighed wearily.

"Well, he'd better not even think of calling me…_babe_."

"Cut my own tongue out first," came Christian's muttered response.

"I heard that!"

And the pair couldn't help a shared smile of amusement.

The 'entente cordiale' clearly hadn't lasted long and didn't seem like it was about to resume any time soon either.

"Eh…what are you doing?"

"Taking his clothes off, Zainab. What does it look like I'm doing!"

Her eyes had almost popped out of her head as she observed Christian, first unbutton and then remove her son's shirt.

"I could…eh…I could do that for him," she suggested, trying to sound ever so casual.

"Nooo, Zainab…you couldn't," Christian returned, slow and deliberate; drawing again on all his patience. "You shouldn't even be here…remember!"

But if she was uncomfortable with Christian taking off Syed's shirt, imagine then her horror at seeing him, without any hesitation and with all too practised ease, undo and pull open her son's jeans! No, she definitely did not want to think how _familiar_ Christian was in _that department _with men! Just as well she couldn't see the subtle look that passed between the pair.

"Maybe, I could go and get…Mas! Or…or we could wait for Doctor Jenkins…I'm sure he wouldn't mind…."

His patience was beginning to wear a bit thin now, it had to be said.

"He needs to be made comfortable _now_, Zainab. He has a temperature and his clothes are soaked in sweat, so he's not going to be comfortable in bed with them all on! Just what _is_ your problem?" But of course, he knew exactly what the problem was. "What! You think because I'm gay…."

Zainab visibly flinched at the word, briefly closing her eyes.

"…I_ have to have_ every man I see! That I can't control myself! That I can't help with taking Syed's clothes off without wanting to…_jump_ him!"

She closed her eyes briefly again against the image.

"You really think that I would take advantage of Syed, when he's sick! Give me some credit, Zainab…." And it was just too good to resist. "I'd at least wait until he was well first!"

Rendered momentarily speechless, her mouth opened and closed like a stranded fish out of water, gasping for air.

Christian was just being…well, Christian; daring and provocative, outrageously blatant. One of the reasons he felt irresistibly drawn to the man, even though he could be quite 'full on' at times and it made him smile, just a little. While having every sympathy though for Christian, having to endure his mother's not-so-subtle taunts and jibes, it was all starting to get just a little too much right now.

"Will you two pleeease stop it. My head's busting wide open here. I...I just want to lie down. And Ma…it's okay. I want Christian…to help me. I can't manage myself."

The two felt suitably chastised.

"Yeah…I'm sorry too, babe," Christian whispered, yet quietly pleased that Syed had spoken up for him. He continued undressing his young lover; both unable to help the small smile that curled their mouths at knowing a certain element of truth lay in Christian's jibe.

And the truth was! Off course he wanted to _jump_ him…though _never_ would he take advantage of Syed when he was sick like this. It's what they both knew.

When he'd started to unbutton Syed's shirt! To have that lithe, beautiful body revealed to him once more, after so long; that swarthy skin and hard-toned chest with its dark hair slicked with sweat, slowly revealed to him inch by painstaking inch. To have that dark, hard nub of nipple exposed then two and both knowing just how much Syed loved him to suck there, nip and tease with his tongue. And on opening up his jeans; to know that fine dark-haired 'treasure trail' led to the most exquisite 'treasure'! God, it was killing him, not to be able to touch the young Masood the way he longed to.

Yes, it was temptation; pure and unadulterated temptation. And with Zainab, the boy's own mother there, close by, watching; it was surely temptation of the cruellest kind. To see, to take in that vision of breathtaking beauty, yet not be able to touch; to want what you shouldn't have! Yes Allah, God or however people chose to call Him, must surely exist because only He could have thought up such a temptation; such utterly sublime and exquisite torture, just for him.

Finally, having finished undressing him, leaving the young man in only his tight boxers; temptation in itself, as they left little to the imagination, Christian swung Syed's legs up onto the bed and settled him down; pulling the covers up around him.

"Don't you at least have pyjamas he could wear?" Zainab asked, a little irritably.

With his back to Syed's mother, the pair exchanged a _knowing_ look. "Sorry, don't have any…never wear them…" And a mischievous smile curled on Christian's mouth. "…don't wear anything in bed."

It was so designed to get a rise out of her and it worked. And Syed wasn't about to deny his strapping Londoner the pleasure either, this time, of a little 'bite back'.

"Anyway, he'll be better off without anything…he'd be too warm. And when he's cold…." Here, there was another meaningful look. "….I can always add extra blankets. Don't worry, Zainab…I'll take good care of him. I promise."

While the man may be insufferable at times and she may not exactly see eye-to-eye on _certain matters_, Zainab couldn't deny the practical care he was giving her son and for that, she was grateful; watching as Christian tended him by bathing his fevered brow and having given him something for his headache.

Thankfully though, it wasn't too much longer before the door buzzer announced the arrival of Dr Al Jenkins.

He had to admit to being mildly intrigued at first, as to why he should be visiting an ill Syed Masood, in Christian Clarke's flat; after all, he was only human. Intriguing too, that it was Zainab, his mother, who had called asking him to come! But since it was Zainab who had called, she was obviously aware of the 'situation' so, there was obviously no 'situation' to speculate about; was there! However, it wasn't really his place to speculate about his patient's private affairs; _affair_ off course in this case, unknowingly, being the operative word. His only concern! His patient's health; though at times, what went on in a patient's private life often affected their health, becoming enmeshed and inseparable. But there, he was duty bound, of course, to keep any confidence he may be privy to.

Zainab Masood however, was going to make sure the good doctor knew exactly what the situation was, or wasn't; leaving no room for speculation or intrigue of any kind. The poor man was barely through the door.

"This isn't how it seems, you know. It's all perfectly innocent," she smiled charmingly, a smile that dared him to think otherwise.

"I'm…sure it is," Al Jenkins replied, a little bemused.

"It is. Just because Syed is here…"

"I'm…not sure I…._!"_

She leant forward, as though about to impart some great secret, yet not exactly caring about being discreet. "Christian…he's _gay_."

Al Jenkins tried to keep the smile from his face. "Yes, I know."

"He won't mind me saying that, of course…," she smiled condescendingly. "…since he goes on about being, _'out and proud'…_" Rolling her eyes, she waved a hand dramatically. "….isn't that what they say! And look around you…it's obvious what _kind of person_ lives here. And my Syed…!"

"Ahh…" Now, he understood and the corners of the doctor's eyes crinkled up in an embarrassing smile. Embarrassed, not for himself but for Christian, who he could see visibly stiffen.

He felt for the man, having to put up with those 'comments' from Zainab, which he guessed now were nothing new to Christian, knowing the two families worked together. She was entitled to her opinions of course, which he knew stemmed from her beliefs but still, Christian had to have the patience of a saint.

Not exactly how Zainab would choose to think of him probably; more like a _perverted sinner_!

The two men then greeted each other warmly, when Christian looked over his shoulder, offering a 'patient' smile; to which he returned an understanding one. "Christian."

He liked Christian, a lot and felt he had got to know the man a little more, from when treating him after the recent homophobic attack. Although he had been withdrawn and a little panicky about venturing outside for a while, normal under the circumstances, he found Christian to be an interesting and intelligent man. Sensitive and completely loyal to those who mattered most to him and at times, his dry wit and humour had managed to shine through. He had got the feeling though, Christian hadn't told him quite everything about that incident, that there were some things he was holding back and just wouldn't talk about; a case in point of when private life and health become enmeshed. But of course, he had to respect the man's privacy and just treat him as best he could.

Christian too, was a strikingly handsome man, with his chiselled features and a physique that most men would envy. As a heterosexual male, completely comfortable in his own sexuality, it didn't bother him in the least to admit to that or the fact that he was also aware the man just oozed sexual charisma and confidence; probably due to the fact Christian was also completely comfortable in his own sexuality. Perhaps also, being a bit of an adrenalin junkie and loving a little danger and excitement, allowed him to admit to that too and to understanding how men would easily find Christian Clarke alluring. If he was ever tempted to 'experiment' and he wouldn't say he never thought of it, the time he'd spent in Ibiza, then Christian Clarke would certainly be a man he wouldn't mind 'experimenting' with; if he wasn't his patient, of course!

Syed Masood, he hadn't had any dealings with as yet; only knew that he was the Masood's eldest son, also working in the family business. He certainly didn't mind admitting though that he was also an extremely good-looking young man, in a dark, exotic kind of way; a beauty that was positively sinful. If again, one was that way inclined!

"No, Syed is only here because they both said he shouldn't be at home, if he has flu…not with me expecting the baby."

Clearly, Christian had a better relationship with Syed than with his mother and that they were obviously friends, seeing as how Christian was taking care of him, here in his flat. In fact, it made him wonder a little now if Syed hadn't been at all instrumental in aiding Christian with his own recovery!

Al Jenkins nodded approvingly. "And…that would be very sensible, Mrs Masood." She grudgingly supposed he was right. "But obviously, I need to examine Syed first."

It was clear though, as he approached the bed that Syed was indeed poorly, hearing the now laboured wheeze in his chest and sweaty appearance.

But in that instant and just for a moment, he became mesmerised; noticing how the pair were watching each other, as Christian bathed the young man's forehead. Was that just his imagination! Or was there perhaps some _intrigue_ after all! Which would be odd because he knew too, Syed had a beautiful fiancée in Amira Shah; a young woman any man would be proud to have on his arm and that they were planning to be married soon.

Before however, he got to begin his examination or even ask any pertinent questions!

"I should have known he'd end up ill like this. Out in all that rain last week…getting soaked to the skin…and not caring! Now, look at you, Syed."

"You didn't tell me that!" Christian frowned at the ill young man.

"Hmph, you're not one to talk Christian Clarke," Zainab snorted dryly. "Jane told me exactly the same thing about you…getting a good soaking, sitting about in wet clothes. She was surprised you hadn't 'caught your death'!"

"You didn't tell me that!" Syed rasped, frowning equally up at Christian.

Al Jenkins found himself smiling in bemusement; for the pair sounded more like they were having a lover's tiff than that of friends. And that he found quite…intriguing.

Obviously Zainab Masood didn't see it in the same way, which was just as well; scolding the pair like naughty schoolboys. "What you need is your heads banging together…the pair of you…."

If only she knew how that sounded! For there had been more than heads _banging together,_ between these two; although it would depend on what exactly was meant by, 'heads'!

There were two though who knew exactly how that sounded. A subtle, meaningful look passed between the two _friends_; not to mention the ghost of a mischievous grin curling the corner of Christian's mouth. A certain doctor didn't fail to notice either.

"…all over some silly argument," Zainab continued. "And there's still so much of this wedding to plan, Syed…."

There was that 'word' again.

"You know what, Zainab! Maybe if there hadn't been so much _pressure_ put on him…if he wasn't so stressed….."

"Christian, please….," Syed begged softly.

"Stress!" Zainab snorted. "What do either of you know about _stress_! Let me tell you what _stress _is. Being like this...is_ stress_." And she gestured to her noticeably pregnant bump. "Trying to run a business when you're the size of a whale...is_ stress_..."

"Mum…pleeease…"

It was time to step in. Not only for Syed's sake but so he could actually begin to examine his patient. Putting on his most charming doctor's smile, Al Jenkins placed his hands lightly on Zainab's shoulders and began leading her to the door.

"Mrs Masood…Zainab…." She shot him a frosty look. "What you and this baby need is plenty of rest so, as your doctor…I recommend you do just that. Go home, make a nice cup of tea and put your feet up."

"But…but Syed…."

He edged her closer to the door.

"Syed's going to be just fine. He's in good hands."

Maybe not the wisest thing to say!

"I want details, Christian…everything the doctor tells you, I want to know. Is that understood?" Zainab called back. "Everything!"

Christian drew a deep breath and fixed a smile. "Yes, Zainab." Just not _everything_, he then thought wryly to himself.

The door finally closed and Dr Jenkins had to admit to a small sigh of relief. Zainab Masood was…taxing; to say the least.

And he wasn't the only one to feel relieved.

"Thanks doc," Christian sighed wearily.

The change of atmosphere in the room was noticeable; having changed from that of strained tension to a more peaceful calm. But there was also something else that had become more apparent. It had been subtle before, even thinking it must be his imagination but now, with Syed's mother gone, he felt it even more. Doctor Al Jenkins was getting the distinct impression that he was almost 'surplus to requirements'; that he was somehow intruding on some intensely 'private' moment.

As Christian continued tending his young charge, he couldn't help thinking they did make a stunning looking couple. Both very different in every way, looks, personality, background and culture, age even; they really shouldn't have anything in common. Yet, they worked!

Yes, there was the fact of Syed's fiancée but there was just something about the chemistry he was witnessing now, between these two; a chemistry that surely transcended friendship. Something oddly fascinating about their dynamic of older experience looking out for and being protective of youthful inexperience. And that he found, kind of…erotic. Well, it was totally a _male_ thing; like some men also enjoy the idea of two women 'getting it on'!

While he was finding it increasingly harder to concentrate, he did have a job to do.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, Syed…you want to tell me how you're feeling?"

Al Jenkins went to take the place on the bedside Christian had just vacated but not before witnessing another little intimacy between the pair.

As Christian stood, Syed's hand reached out and Christian clasped it, curling then the ends of their fingers together and squeezing.

"Stay."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Christian husked softly.

He then proceeded to carry on with his examination; or tried to, aware that Christian was hovering behind him. Yes, Christian was definitely hovering. Not at all like a concerned friend or even a surrogate parent. No, more like a worried lover! And he found he couldn't keep the corners of his eyes from crinkling up, trying not to smile.

Over the course of the examination, temperature was taken, relevant questions were asked; all of course, with Christian still hovering, telling his version of events and what he'd been doing to try and make Syed more comfortable. Doctor Jenkins was also aware that Syed continually sought eye contact with Christian, as though needing the older man's reassurance. And he was beginning to wonder now if this might not be perhaps another case of _private life_ and _health_ becoming enmeshed!

"Okay, Syed…now I want you to try and take a deep breath for me. Another…and another…"

It was hard for Christian to hear his young lover struggle to take those pained breaths and he almost had a mind to ask Al Jenkins to stop. So the next part wasn't going to come any easier.

"Now, Syed…I'm going to need you to sit forward for me, so I can listen at your back."

"Is that really necessary, doc? You can hear how bad he is."

"I'm sorry, Christian. I know it's distressing…but I really do need to hear what's going on in there."

He was sympathetic and even now could see that Syed wasn't in a position to make it unaided. But it wasn't surprising that help was at hand.

"Here, let me."

And Al Jenkins automatically found himself standing out of the way to make room for Christian.

"Come on, baby…this won't take long." Sliding an arm under and giving his lover a tender smile, Christian pulled Syed forward, enough to allow the ill young man to rest comfortably against him.

Now, he was almost certain there was more going on here than just, friendship. It wasn't the fact Christian just called Syed, "baby" for he knew the man to be openly flirtatious with many people; no. It was more to do with the tender affection and the way Christian was now holding Syed, cradling the young man's head and yes, he was sure he had just seen Christian lightly brush his face against Syed's and breathe him in; almost like parted lovers just reunited. And Syed seemed comfortable enough too, like it wasn't completely alien to him to be held by Christian with such intimacy; like he almost welcomed the touch. Yes, it was sure getting hot in this room and it wasn't down to his patient's temperature!

And if it were true, what an incredibly difficult and complex situation for both of them!

It was still there, it would always be there; that feeling. That feeling, every time Christian even touched him, never mind holding him like this; feeling the warmth and comfort of Christian's strong body radiate through him. Feeling the brush of his face against his; Christian's warm breath on his skin.

It had taken him to be ill to get to this point, to get back to this place, to be back in Christian's bed but it had been his own fault. He had made himself ill, being so unhappy. Cutting himself off from the only person who really knew him, understood his needs hadn't helped at all, like he thought. He had been fooling himself and ending it with Christian had been not only painful, cutting off a limb would not have given him as much pain but had increased his inner turmoil to the point his unhappiness had made him physically ill. But if being ill was the price he had to pay to be back here, if only for a few precious days, then he would gladly pay it. He would gladly suffer the discomfort than go one more day, healthy and without him.

It was still there, it would always be there, that feeling; he knew that. Syed had changed his life forever and he would never be the same. Holding him now like this was the best feeling in the world…and the worst. Best, most beautiful, wonderful feeling because he thought never to be able to do it again, to feel the weight of this beautiful man against him; to breathe him in. Yes, he smelt of sweat, his body slicked and abnormally hot with fever. It didn't matter. It was Syed and for him, the most beautiful scent there was.

And worst! Worst because it took Syed to be ill to have him back here in his bed and no matter how much he wanted it, he didn't want that for him. Yet the 'selfish' in him thinking, whatever it took. Worst because had he been well, they would still, most likely, be apart; it hadn't been Syed's choice. Worst because the situation itself hadn't changed; there was still Amira, there was still marriage. Because holding him, only meant having to let him go again when he was well.

But he was helpless, caught his own tragic, unchangeable situation. Helpless, to do anything other than take care of him now because the simple truth was…he loved him.

The examination over, Al Jenkins removed and started to roll up his stethoscope. But Christian hadn't exactly found it reassuring to see Al Jenkins frown when listening to the back of his ill young lover's chest.

"Well?"

"Yes…Syed does have flu. And yes, I do think it's 'swine'," the doctor informed sympathetically.

"Think!"

"Well, I could do tests, to confirm it…but it takes a few days and…the analysis is expensive. In all honesty, Christian…I don't think it's worth it. I've seen enough of these cases lately to be ninety nine per cent sure. Syed has all the symptoms of this more extreme flu."

"But…that's not all you're worried about…is it?" Christian asked cautiously.

He was obviously a very perceptive man. Al Jenkins unconsciously scrunched his eyes up. "Mmm yes…there is a chest infection there…"

Christian unconsciously tightened his hold on Syed.

"…which doesn't help, with this kind of flu. But…Syed is normally a strong, healthy young man…no other underlying conditions. Still, I'd like to get this cleared up as quickly as possible before it has a chance to really take hold…."

Christian instinctively squeezed Syed a little more.

"So…" And here Dr Jenkins took out a prescription pad and started to scribble. "…we need to get him started on these anti-biotics as soon as possible…" He continued to scribble. "…and I'm going to prescribe him these anti-virals, to help with the symptoms of his flu. They're strong, so please make sure you don't give him anything else while taking these…no over-the-counter cold and flu remedies, eh…"

"Sure."

"You can give him a cough-linctus though, if he needs it. And I'll…eh…add a box of these too…disposable urinal bottles…just for when he feels he can't get out of bed. That is, of course, if you're happy enough to…help him with that, Christian?"

"Yes, not a problem. Whatever he needs," Christian quickly reassured.

But someone wasn't happy, although more from embarrassment than anything else.

"No…won't need. I…I, I can make it…to the bathroom," Syed rasped, in between bouts of stifled coughs.

"We'll take them," Christian quietly insisted.

And Al Jenkins found himself again, quietly smiling to himself. Christian was obviously taking his duties very seriously and obviously very much in charge.

"Good. Then I'll take this with me…" He indicated the prescription. "…get it filled. And…I'll have a courier bring it over…save you going out…"

"Thanks, doc."

"And of course, try and keep contact with other people to a minimum…at least until he's over the worst."

"Yeah, we can do that."

And somehow, he couldn't help get the impression Christian would be more than happy to keep contact with others to a minimum. There was another quiet smile from the doctor at seeing too that Christian seemed more than happy to keep a hold on the young man. "It's okay…you can…let him lie down now."

He was sure he saw a blush rise on Christian's cheek and tried not to watch as the older man, with the same tender care and smile, laid Syed back down and fixed the covers around him.

The doctor then got on with packing up his case. "Well, there's not a lot more I can do. Just keep doing what you're doing for him, Christian…cooling him down if he gets too hot…and keeping him warm when he's cold…" And he nearly forgot, with being so distracted. "Oh and here's a hand sanitizer you can have. I don't suppose you have one…!"

Christian shook his head and thanked him.

"It'll do in the meantime…and if you need anymore, you can just pick one up in the chemist."

Saying his goodbyes to Syed and getting a croaked "thanks" in return, Al Jenkins made to leave.

"I'll be back in a bit, babe," Christian assured, brushing a damp tendril of hair from Syed's brow before following the dark-haired doctor to the door.

"It's not too late you know, Christian…I could still see about getting him admitted to Walford General."

Christian's brows drew together in a heavy frown. "No…that's not an option, doctor."

"It's just…he's going to need a lot of care over the next few days. You sure you're up to it?" Al asked quietly.

He knew the doctor meant well but like he said, it just wasn't an option.

Glancing back to where his young lover lay tossing restlessly, his face softened. "It's okay, doc…I can manage just fine. It won't be a problem."

Christian was quite obviously determined but he had come to expect nothing less of the man. He nodded.

"To be honest, I would rather keep him out of hospital, if I could…as much for his own sake as everybody else. He would have much more peace and quiet too, which I'm sure he'd rather have. But only if you're sure, Christian?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Al Jenkins reached out and companionably clasped the hard, muscled bicep of Christian's upper arm and nodded. "If you need anything or you're worried about anything…if the medication doesn't agree with him, don't hesitate to call me."

"I won't, doc…and thanks again."

The door to the flat closed and finally…they were alone.


	6. Chapter 6

In Sickness and In Health

**I Think You're Beautiful**: A wee 'something' in there, just for you! It was a challenge but I managed it…lol.

A/N: And thanks to all who continue to read and review. It's all very much appreciated.

Chapter 6

It was just the two of them now. He had closed the door, not just in the physical sense, to all the people involved but to the outside world and all that it represented; it's prejudice, intolerance and closed-mindedness. Sealing them into their own private world, the safe haven of his flat, where no-one had a right to be disproving of what they did and what they had together.

And he was wearied. From being angry with Amira's shallow self-centredness to having to deal with Zainab and her constant snipes and jibes, with her very obvious disapproval of his lifestyle; yes, he was drained. He felt like he'd just gone six rounds with big Mo 'arris! No, actually…going six rounds with Mo 'arris would have been a hell of a lot easier.

But that was behind him now. Everyone was gone and it was just the two of them. For the next few days at least, or however long it took Syed to get over the worst, he could look forward to it just being the two of them; and yes, he was selfish enough to want Syed all to himself. Surely now, everyone would just leave them alone.

But when was life ever that forgiving!

With a deep sigh of relief, Christian removed his hand from the door and made his way back across the room.

He had to smile; a soft, quiet little smile. Not only had Syed curled himself up, his lean frame making him look almost lost in the large bed but he was snuggled down into the pillow; his pillow, like he was desperately needing its comfort. Looking tired and so miserable, he was just too adorable for words.

And he was. Desperately needing the comfort that was Christian's pillow. He couldn't smell, couldn't smell anything right now but he didn't need to. He knew what it would be like. He remembered; the scent of the man burned deep into his brain.

Christian sat on the bed, cupped his young lover's face and began gently thumbing his cheek; his large hand now only seeming to emphasize the frailty of the already lean features.

"Don't suppose you feel like anything to eat?" he husked quietly.

Syed shook his head a little…and then wished he hadn't. "No…thanks."

"You should try and get some sleep then."

But before he got up, to leave him in peace, Syed grasped his wrist. "Christian…"

It was such a plaintive plea, barely above a pained whisper, that Christian could feel himself welling up. And both were feeling a moment of awkwardness. That now they were alone, there was so much they should say to each other but neither knowing how to or where to begin. But truth was, sometimes the 'so much they should say', just wasn't necessary!

"Ssshhh, it's okay…it's all okay." And having removed his shoes, Christian slipped onto the bed beside him, pulling him close. "Come 'ere."

True, Christian's chest was nothing like the soft pillow he had snuggled into, being all hard muscle beneath the soft grey tight top he wore but it was the best 'pillow' in the world right now. It was the comfort they both craved, since Christian had come to his young lover's aid and found him ill and now Christian was idly stroking his hair.

"Christian…talk to me," Syed rasped.

Thinking Syed was needing to unburden himself; to make things right between them! "There's no need, baby…I told you…"

"No, I mean…just _talk_ to me. I just…I just want to hear you…the sound…of your voice. I've missed it. I…I like hearing you talk…how it sounds…how it makes me feel."

It was true. The rich quality and tone of the man's voice, not to mention the accent, was always a joy to listen to; whether he was flirty or spoke with quiet sincerity. It always managed to stir something deep in him.

A quiet smile curled Christian's mouth, followed by a little bemusement. "What…do you want me to talk about? The Ian Beale Guide to Successful Business Management! Price of fruit 'n veg!"

It brought a tired smile. "Tell me about…us. Wh…what would it be like…being together!"

Not exactly what he'd expected and it almost knocked him for six.

"Don't, Sy…don't," Christian whispered; his voice cracking with emotion.

"Pleeeease, Christian."

How was it, Syed could keep doing this to him! Drawing him in, time after time! He knew why. The young Masood had only to look at him with those deeply intense, yet big soft puppy-dog brown eyes of his, even harder to ignore being red-rimmed and watery and he would fold like a pack of cards. Not to mention that heartbreakingly plaintive plea from a voice he too loved to hear and missed dearly. And Syed was now clearly, needing the comfort.

Christian sighed and smiled sadly; letting himself drift into reflective musing.

"Okay, let's see. Well, we'd have lots of times like this…just being together, holding each other and talking…or not talking. Wouldn't matter, cus we don't always need to talk. We'd fall asleep together and wake up together…and at weekends, we'd lie in…." Here, Christian grinned mischievously. "…have lots of early morning sex…cus we didn't have to rush off anywhere. We'd take turns bringing each other breakfast in bed…and shower sex. There'd be lots of great shower sex…"

Now why did that not surprise him, he thought with a sleepy smile!

"And we'd probably fight and argue too."

"We would, wouldn't we!"

Christian continued to idly stroke his back. "But that's okay…because that's what couples do. We'd sort it…because we wanted to. Because we wouldn't want to stay mad at each other." Here, a slow smile curled his mouth. "And because 'make-up' sex is just so damn good."

He couldn't argue with that.

"And we'd argue about all the little things too. Whose turn it is to get groceries. The right way and_ only_ way to make a good omelette," the Walford caterer added, with a smile. "_You_…using up all the towels to dry that gorgeous hair of yours…"

"Do not," the younger man sulked.

Christian grinned. "Do too. And fighting over who gets most time in front of the bathroom mirror! But at least…leaving the lavy seat up wouldn't be an issue!"

That made them both smile.

"Oh yeah…and when we'd go out, you'd get dead jealous…of all the fit blokes lookin at me, eyeing me up," Christian added cheekily, dropping his tone to a sexy tease.

"Would not!"

The muscular East Londoner had to smile at his young lover's child-like pout. "Would too. You were jealous seeing me with Gianfranco. You know, the coffee bloke…café opening!"

"Oh…was that his name," Syed grumbled.

"And then there was…Marc. Piercing blue eyes…wanted to be a surgeon!"

"He doesn't count!" Syed frowned crossly; his voice rasping even more, as it rose an octave. "…he didn't exist!"

Christian's smile just grew wider. "Yeah…but you thought he did!

He did and it brought a tired laugh from Syed, at the memory. Christian so knew how to wind him up; press all the right buttons. In more ways than one!

And there was no need to mention James, when it came to jealousy. That had just been too much of a painful issue on both sides for it to be made light of. Christian knew it had been hard for Syed to see him with James and that Syed felt bad at having James confide in him. No, he didn't need to remind him or himself. For it still saddened him that he'd maybe lost one of his oldest friends.

Taking a deep breath, Christian continued. "And I'd be just as jealous…all those blokes, eyein up my gorgeous boyfriend. And I _could_ call you that…_my boyfriend_…and it wouldn't bother you anymore," he added with a reflective smile.

"Would you…be jealous?" Syed asked quietly. It was almost as if it never even occurred to him, it would work the other way round!

"Yeah babe, I would…totally. I mean…look at you!"

"I'm a mess."

"You're a beautiful mess_...my_ beautiful mess_,"_ Christian smiled adoringly; his eyes seeing only what his heart did. "And you know what I'd do? I'd put my arms around you, pull you in close. And right there, in front of everyone…I'd kiss you. Let them all know, you're taken. That you're mine…and only mine."

Syed somewhat enjoyed the thought of his dominant partner publicly staking his claim on him; that he belonged to Christian and Christian alone. If he had the courage the live that kind of lifestyle…that is!

"And you'd kiss me back. They'd all see we're not interested in anyone else…that we only have eyes for each other…that we belong together. "

"Tell me…some more."

"Well, the nights we stayed in…we'd cook together. We already know we're compatible there. And after, we'd curl up on the sofa and watch telly together…probably argue about what was worth watching," he added, making them both smile. "And…on cold winter evenings, we'd take the duvet and lay it on the floor over there, by the fire. Put on some slow, sexy music and we'd make love…long, beautiful lazy love, all night long. Or maybe we'd just fuck the hell out of each other until we couldn't fuck anymore and we were totally exhausted. And after! Afterwards…we'd just curl up together, pull the duvet over us and fall asleep….right there, on the floor. When we'd go out…we'd hold hands. And it wouldn't matter who saw us because…because it would be the most natural thing in the world. Because…"

He stopped briefly, realising just where his reflective musings were taking him; a pipedream, a beautiful pipedream that was probably never likely to happen. Still, a boy _can_ dream!

"…because we'd be so much in love, we wouldn't care! Because that's what couples do! I couldn't promise you, Sy that everything would be 'rosy and cosy'…because it wouldn't. And I think we both know that. But that wouldn't matter because, we'd have each other." He sighed; all the while still softly stroking his young lover's back. "That's what it would be like, Sy…being together."

On realising there was no response, Christian could do nothing only smile sadly. For somewhere along the way, Syed had finally fallen asleep. Just how much the ill young Masood had heard of the last of his reflection, he had no idea.

It had been infinitely soothing, just listening to that quiet gravelled voice. That and hearing of a life together he had no hope of attaining, in his present situation; that he could only dream of. It was more comforting than Christian could ever know. Not to mention having his back softly stroked by those big beautiful hands. No wonder he drifted into sleep; thoughts of cold winter nights, warm fires and duvets and making love, the last images in his head.

"You fool, Sy…you bloody fool. Makin yourself ill like this," Christian then sighed quietly; pressing a soft emotion-filled kiss against the young man's forehead. "How long are you gonna keep doing this…fighting _this 'thing' _between us? Can't you see! We're just no good, apart."

He wanted to lay longer with him, just quietly holding him while he slept but…he'd made a promise and despite the fact it was to Zainab, the bane of his life, he would keep it. Syed was her son and she would be worried. Besides, he didn't want to give her reason to have any other gripes against him; wouldn't give her that satisfaction that he was someone who would not keep his word.

Quietly, Christian slipped off the bed and crossed the room to the window, tapping the speed-dial number on his phone.

"Zainab….."

"……_..and you're sure he's going to be alright?"_

"Yes, Zainab…." There was a pause while he listened. "No, Zainab…you absolutely can not come round. You know what Dr Jenkins said." Another pause. "I'm sorry, Zee…he finally managed to fall asleep. I really don't want to disturb him. Soup! Soup…would be nice, yes…thank you, Zainab. But maybe in a few days though, eh! Don't think he'll be feeling like anything to eat for a bit. Just plenty of fluids, like the doc said."

"_Yes, I…I suppose you're right…."_

Christian somehow got the feeling she was being a little bit hesitant. "Zainab..! Was there…something _else_?"

"_Yes, I…um…I…"_

"Yeees…Zainab!" the big Londoner replied quizzically. He was even more quizzically bemused to hear; yes he was sure that was Masood in the background with, "For goodness sake, Zee…give it here".

"_Christian…hiii,"_ came the cheery familiar voice.

"Masood…"

"_What it is, Christian…Zee is really wanting to thank you for all you're doing for Syed. Isn't that right, Zee?"_

So that was it! Christian could barely contain the pleasurable satisfaction it was giving him, pressing his lips together to stem the grin, knowing just how hard that was going to be for the woman; how much it was going to stick in her craw. He was going to enjoy this.

He could just imagine her tight, thin smile at hearing her dryly intone, _"Yes, Mas…of course"_.

"…_and that goes for me too of course, Christian."_

"Think nothing of it, Masood. Syed can't be at home right now…and it's not a problem." And it wasn't; he was more than happy to take care of the ill young man, as much for selfish reasons as practical. But this, he couldn't wait for.

"_Christian…"_

He could _see_ the forced smile, as she rolled the 'r' of his name. "Yes, Zainab."

"_I…um…I don't think I…em…got round to…em…thanking you properly for all you're doing for Syed….and that was remiss of me. So…um, yes….thank you…Christian."_

That was hard for her, he knew but he just couldn't resist drawing it out a little more.

"Sorry, Zainab…didn't quite catch that. I think we must have a bad connection."

"_Don't push your luck, Christian…that's all you're getting."_

"Well then, Zainab …I'm more than happy to accept your overwhelming gratitude." Timing is everything, so they say and having gotten in the last 'salvo', he was saved by the bell…or more literally, the door buzzer. With a wry smile still lingering! "Sorry, Zainab…gotta go….someone at the door. It's probably the courier with Sy's tablets."

Not giving her any chance of further retort, he closed the connection; leaving Zainab, mouth drawn tight shut, hanging on the other end, thinking the man was more insufferable than ever before.

Christian made his way to the door; glancing across to make sure Syed hadn't been woken by the buzzer. He hadn't and it was, the courier from the chemist. Paying what was owed, he quietly set the bag on the table; or as quietly as one can set down a bag when trying not to make a noise! He glanced back over to the bed and smiled with tender affection at the soft whimper as Syed shifted in his sleep.

Just then, there was a soft knock at the door. The courier; he must have forgotten something, something not included that should have been or maybe, he hadn't paid the right money. He was sure he had though. Irritated that his ill lover could be disturbed, he went back to the door. A surprise then to find, it wasn't; the courier.

"Jane!"

She had just been about to ring the buzzer on the solid blue door to her brother's flat above the chippie, when it opened and a stranger appeared, letting himself out. Curious as she was though, she took the opportunity of the open door, excused herself with a smile and headed upstairs.

"I em…bumped into someone on the way out so I…didn't need to buzz," she offered quietly by way of explanation, indicating with a finger and look back to the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah…it was just someone from the eh…chemist. Look, Jane…it's not really a good time…"

But she'd already walked past him into the small hallway entrance.

"Yes…I em, I saw Zainab earlier. She came into the café. Said Syeed had the flu or something…that you were going to look after him, here in the flat!" And glancing in, she could indeed see Syed curled up in her brother's bed.

He should have known, as soon as Jane mentioned her name. "Yeah, he's here. And it's not _'or_ _something'…_," he informed slowly, keeping his voice low. "…it is flu, swine flu…doctor said a chest infection too."

She nodded sympathetically. "Zainab said he threw up when you brought him in."

"Yeah, he's pretty poorly. That was the courier with his tablets." Christian nodded to the large bag he'd set on the table.

"And does Zainab know what Dr Jenkins had to say?" And here, she had to smile. "She said, she was _ordered_ to leave…"

Christian wasn't quite so amused. "Yeah well, you know Zainab! Would you want her round you if you weren't well! Sy just didn't need the hassle. But yeah, not long off the phone with her."

Jane smiled kindly, knowing exactly what her brother meant. "I think she does appreciate what you're doing for Syeed. She does know you're both thinking of her and the baby."

While that was true, there were other more selfish motives he wasn't about to admit to.

"So eh…you two alright again then!" Jane then asked, trying to sound casual and nonchalant.

"What?"

"You and Syeed…!" She smiled a little sheepishly, at catching her brother's stony features. "It's just, Zainab…in the café, the other week! She said you two had, _'words'_! Is that why you've been so down, Christian?"

Christian pulled his head in sharply; the way he did when trying not to be overly sarcastic but so was. "That when you both had us _'catchin our deaths' _and being_ 'miserable as sin' _too, was it!"

Worried though, where this particular part of the conversation might lead, given that they had obviously been discussed and pondered over, he decided to change tack. Christian sighed quietly. "Janey, it's alright. Sy and me…we're, okay."

Was it her imagination or had she just seen her brother cast a look of complete and utter tenderness, tinged though with a little sadness, over to the bed, as he spoke!

"I was just worried about you, Christian. I know, it's a really wonderful and kind thing you're doing…offering to take care of Syeed like this…but it _is_ a lot to take on. It's just…with the way you've been lately…! Well, I just wondered if…if it wasn't too much to be asking of you!"

"And I appreciate it Janey…I really do. But like I say, whatever differences Syed and I might have had…we patched them up. We're okay. And they didn't ask, Sy didn't ask…I offered. Syed's a…."

"Christian…is everything alright?" Jane asked quietly, following her brother's gaze that had drifted unconsciously again to the figure in the bed.

He drew a deep breath, having fought for the right word to use; though it far from did justice to what he truly felt. "Sy's a…mate. He needs looking after and he can't very well be at home. Now, I'm fine and I can manage."

She nodded a quiet smile. "Look, what I really wanted, Christian was…! Well, when Zainab stopped by and said you were going to take care of Syeed…I thought I'd come over and see if…well, there was anything you needed! I mean, you're going to have your hands full for a while…so, if you need any…groceries or…!"

He felt rather touched by his sister's thoughtfulness. "Thanks, babe. Yeah, there are some things you could get me, if you don't mind! Not much in the way of groceries, think I have most of what I need. Sy's not going to feel like much to eat anyway, for a bit…plus Zainab's offered to send over soup! But yeah, tissues…couple more boxes of tissues and cough medicine…you know, the 'chesty' kind. Al said he can use cough medicine, okay. Oh and you know, that menthol oil…you breath in! Comes in the little bottle! And a 'rub' too…that'll be good for his chest. And Complan …yes, get me a box of that, or whatever else they have. I can make him up milky drinks, when he doesn't feel like eating. Strawberry, yeah get the strawberry. Al said he should have plenty of fluids. Oh, better get a bottle of fruit juice as well.

Let's see, what else! Yeah, you could get me some of those 'rice pots'. You know…the ones with the fruit in them! I can keep them in the fridge and then heat them in the microwave. And yoghurts…yeah, they'll be nice and soft for him to start with. Oh and maybe you could get me some milk too, babe. Here, take this…if it comes to anymore, let me know." And he handed her some notes, taken from his wallet.

She was left speechless for a moment; she really was and couldn't hide the smile from her face.

"What?" Christian asked, quizzically bemused.

"You're really taking your nursing duties seriously, aren't you!" she smiled teasingly. "But then you always did like looking after sick and injured things. Hey, do you remember, when you were little…the worm that got cut in two…!"

He knew what was coming and he groaned. "Jaaane."

"…and you put a liiiittle bandage…" She indicated just how little, with her thumb and forefinger. "…around it, trying to join the two halves together."

Typical of a big sister; loving to embarrass a little brother; although, not so little anymore! Christian shot her 'the look' that let her know.

"And when you were older, there was that bird…with the broken wing! You spent ages looking after it and getting it all better."

"Yeah…only for it to get chewed up by next door's cat, as soon as I let it go," he reminded her dryly.

She blushed a little, before smiling again. "Oh yes…I forgot about that. Well, at least you won't have to worry about Syeed getting all 'chewed up' by the local cat, when you've got him better and let him go!"

"Not unless you count Zainab!" Christian muttered dryly. And he really did not want to be reminded of the 'letting go' part.

"Oh, Christian!" Jane exclaimed, in the pretence of being shocked; while at the same time, finding it amusing. Still, she had to wonder a little, why her brother would think Syed was in danger of getting 'chewed up' by his own mother! "Syeed is lucky though…you're a good friend, Christian. I just wish…"

"Wish what, Jane?"

"Well, I see changes in you, Christian. You're more thoughtful…and caring…"

"As opposed to….!"

"You know what I mean, Christian. And you're more…_reflective!_"

He did; they both did. And the past remained firmly in the past. "It's called, _getting older_, babe!" he smiled sadly.

"…you're great with the kids, especially Bobby. And you've been really supportive of my wanting a baby…wanting to adopt." She gave her brother a watery, emotional smile. "You've all this love to give, Christian. And I just hope that someday…well…that you'll find your 'someone special'."

If only she knew! That 'someone special' was a lot closer than she could ever possibly imagine!

But this was getting too close for comfort now; much too close. If he wasn't careful, he was in danger of his emotions betraying him; unaware that they almost had already. Christian drew on all his resources. "Yeah look, babe…I really appreciate your coming over and getting those things for me but…I've not long got him off to sleep, so….!"

Was that a look of tender adoration on her brother's face, as she followed his gaze! And she couldn't help wonder at his choice of phrasing either; like he had a personal hand in getting Syed off to sleep. Almost as though he had been physically rocking or stroking him; like one would comfort a sick child! But then, perhaps it was just her brother's way of saying things.

And almost too, as though in support of his older lover, there was a timely groan and restless shifting from the bed.

"Yes, of course. I eh…I should get going," she whispered quietly, indicating the direction of the door and outside; as though he needed reminding of just where 'outside' was! "And I'll em…drop those things in tomorrow."

"Yeah, no rush. And thanks, babe." But when Jane instinctively went to hug him, he backed off a step, reminding her of the need for caution, as he thought of Doctor Jenkins advice on minimal contact. "Best not, eh. And use some of this too."

He really was taking his nursing duties seriously. Still rubbing the last of the sanitizing gel into her hands, Christian let her out of the flat and closed the door.

Another sigh and he crossed back to the bed; smiling then with tender affection at the soft whimper. He really should wake him though; casting a quick glance to the bag on the table. Doctor Jenkins had wanted Syed started on the medication as soon as possible but now, seeing his ill young lover get some semblance of sleep, he just hadn't the heart to wake him. Besides, another half hour or so wouldn't make much difference and it would, if Syed continued to sleep, allow him to grab a quick bite to eat. He was probably going to need it, especially if he was up during the night with his sick lover.

Pressing a soft kiss to the young Masood's forehead, then laying a freshly squeezed-out cool cloth against his brow, Christian got up and made his way to the kitchen; where he quietly set about making himself something to eat. And Syed helpfully obliged, by staying asleep. Well, apart from the odd pained whimper and restless shifting in the bed.

Around seven thirty found Christian gently coaxing his young lover awake, by softly stroking his cheek. He was met by sleepy brown eyes, red-rimmed and watery, heavy-lidded with brows drawn together against the pain. It was clear Syed was feeling much worse; the little sleep he'd had, having done little to mask the growing pain in his head. So much so, Christian kept the lighting in the room to a minimum; switching on only the up-lighter floor lamp in the far corner.

"Hey, baby…we need to get you started on these," the big Londoner smiled softly and sliding a muscular arm under Syed's shoulder, raised him up, gave him his medication and encouraged him to drink a little more of the cool water. Just sips of water would be best for now, he thought, with Syed having been sick earlier.

And they were just enjoying a time of quietly tender 'eye sex', when the latest interruption came. Christian had been bathing his face; sea-green eyes full of adoring devotion, locked in 'silent conversation' with pained and desperately-needing-the-distraction chocolate brown, when the ring-tone on his phone went. So much for peace and quiet!

With some irritation, he fished the phone out of his pocket. And wasn't any less irritated at seeing the name in 'caller display'!

"It's Amira."

Syed shook his head, just a little…and then remembered, just why he shouldn't!

He had felt totally let down by her; given a swift, sharp 'kick up the backside' as to her shallow, self-centred ways. Oh, he had always known she was a bit of a 'princess', always having to be coaxed into helping out with family duties, both at home and in the Unit. But he thought, when it truly mattered, when he was really sick, she would at least, have been there for him; that she wouldn't have hesitated in wanting to take care of him. He couldn't have been more wrong.

And who had…been there for him! Who, despite his own hurting, had selflessly put all aside and without a moment's hesitation, brought him to his own flat to be looked after! It was Christian. His strong, wonderful and amazing Christian. The contrast couldn't have been more glaring and right now, he just couldn't bear to talk to her.

"Trust me, babe…I'll take care of it."

Was it wrong of him to be just a little bit pleased with the fact Syed didn't want to talk to her! If it was, he wasn't apologising.

"Amira." The tone was dry and flat; yet measured and calm so as not to give her cause to wonder.

"Yeah, he's here. Told you I'd take him some place he'd be looked after."

"Sorry that Zainab's 'off' with ya but…you know Zee! And no, Amira…didn't drop you in it with her…she came to that conclusion all by herself." Which was only the truth, after all.

"Yeah, Amira…you were absolutely right. It _is_ best you stay away from Syed…completely."

Christian, at his subtle best! Well, they say, 'all's fair in love and war'!

"How long?" The longer the better, as far as he was concerned. "Just as long as it takes for him to get better!"

"You _are _joking! No, Amira…he is not up to discussing any more plans over the phone. Sy is ill, Amira…really ill…or don't you get that!"

"Sorry, he's sleeping…I don't want to disturb him." It was a lie. Well, more of a half-truth really. Those beautifully addictive brown eyes were bordering on sleep; the strong medication he'd just been given beginning to kick in.

"But yeah…I'll tell him you called." He'd want to know how much you care, Christian thought dryly to himself. And immediately he closed the connection, this time turning off his phone completely. There would be no more interruptions tonight.

What he wouldn't be doing, however, was passing on 'her love'. It irked him she even had the audacity to call it such. What did the girl know of love, other than her brand of fluffy superficiality; the kind that exists only in fantasies and Mills and Boons novels! True, he was only new to 'the game' himself. He didn't _'do'_ love but it had crept up on him without even realising; until _now_, it was too late. But even he already knew just how bloody hard work it was. It didn't get handed to you on a plate. And love hurt; it bloody hurt.

Love was…prepared to get 'its' hands dirty; being with them, rubbing backs while they 'chuck' and wiping it up after, bathing fevered bodies; not turning 'its' nose up and finding it all too much of an inconvenience and bothering more about soiling well-manicured hands!

Love was…prepared to stay up all night, in order to bring solace and comfort; not bemoaning the lack of beauty sleep!

Love was selfless and selfish, all at the same time; selfish, only in fighting for and wanting to hold on to 'it's' heart's desire. Amira's idea of 'fighting for and wanting to hold on to 'it's' heart's desire' probably consisted of, fighting her way through an up-market boutique, to get and hold on to that designer dress or shoes she had her eye on!

Selfless, in that it hurt; tore out your very insides, to see the object of your love hurting and in turmoil. Amira's idea of 'hurting, having her insides torn out' was probably, seeing those designer shoes you wanted so badly being bought by someone else!

Love is patient; waiting and hoping, playing the 'long game' and god knows, he knew all about that and he would; wait and hope, until all hope was finally gone. Amira, he was sure, had no patience at all, wanting everything, like right now. He knew for a fact, she was already bemoaning having to move in and live with Sy's parents after the _'unmentionable'_, the wedding; instead of moving straight into some flash up-market apartment. What little patience she may have, probably extended no farther than 'patiently waiting' for the boutiques to open, so she could go shopping!

For some, love is blind and that couldn't be more true of Amira. How they got away with looking at each other the way they did sometimes when she was around, he never knew. And she was blind to his flaws too. Though that was probably as much down to Sy's sickly sweet charm and encouraging her in her 'princess' ways, as it was her own blind inability to see past the perfect image she'd created for herself.

And Sy's love for her was just as superficial; it was all about appearance and image and what looked good to everyone else, what was expected of him and what he expected for himself. Syed had told him; that talk they had on the floor of Masala Queen. But it was the charm he used, to keep her sweet and everyone else, especially when wanting to divert attention away from himself. The boy could charm the birds out of a tree, when it suited his purpose. It was a trait in Syed he didn't much care for. He valued honesty and above all, longed for Syed to just be true to himself and have the courage to be honest with her. God knows, he had tried to encourage him. Syed knew he'd be there for him but it had to be Sy's choice.

No; for him, love was definitely not blind. It was about seeing and accepting the flaws were there and god knows, he had many of his own. Accepting that no-one is perfect, yet still willing to love that person, warts and all.

No; she didn't love him, not like he did. But loving so deeply and with such passion is to leave yourself open and vulnerable; to lay bare your very soul for it to be stamped on, to risk having your heart torn asunder when it isn't or can't be reciprocated. So yeah, love hurt; it bloody well hurt.

"Thank you," came a quietly whispered rasp.

Pulling him from his reverie, Christian put his phone away and gave his lover a tender smile. "You won't be disturbed again tonight, I promise."

Syed returned an emotional smile. "Christian…thank you…"

"Babe…you just did!"

"No, I mean for…all this. The way you're…taking care of me."

Christian smiled, in almost sad reflection. "You took care of me once, when I needed it."

"It's not the same, Christian…"

"Still with the _'competition'_, eh," the strapping Londoner laughed lightly.

Syed had to smile wearily, only because Christian obviously knew him well. "But you know what I mean, Christian. It's not...the same. This is more…a lot more…."

"_Extra!_" he added cheekily, with a wry grin. Okay, he knew he shouldn't have but…! "Yeah, okay …I know. That was bad," the caterer then added, with a soft smile.

How could he not smile, for it was amusing; because with Amira, everything was 'extra'! "Yes, you are _bad_, Christian Clarke. But it's true. It's all…extra work for you. You're looking after me…24/7."

"I'm not complaining, babe. Besides…I used to be a nurse, in a former life…remember!" the big Londoner soothed; Syed's lean face, pale and gaunt with illness, dwarfed and almost lost under the large hand that cupped and was quietly thumbing his cheek.

How could he forget! They had both silently remembered earlier too, when Christian had given him the water to drink. That beautifully tender, intense moment, not a million miles away in the little kitchen; when the world had literally stood still for them!

Syed smiled softly, before becoming a little more emotional. "I remember. But I…I don't deserve it, Christian. Not with how I was with you…the way I…hurt you, again."

Brows furrowed in concern. "No, babe…no. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. I told ya…that's behind us. Look, you took care of me, when I needed it…now it's my turn. No more need for apologies… or 'thank yous'. End of…okay!"

Is this what it was! The paying off of some kind of debit! Is this what Christian wanted! That they would be 'even', 'quits'; no longer owing each other anything!

And somehow; he seemed to know. Perhaps, being so attuned to his ill lover's thinking and seeing that pitiful sadness cloud the youthful face, seeing it in his eyes; those beautifully expressive eyes that could keep nothing from him!

Christian broke into a soft smile. "And no, babe…it's not like that. This isn't about me paying off any debit…calling us 'quits'." The long-legged Londoner then leant forward a little, his mouth curling in a wry seductive grin. "See! I know just how your sick, ill, beautiful little mind works."

He did too, didn't he! And sometimes that unnerved him, in a deeply excited kind of way; Christian knowing him that well.

Straightening up, Christian returned to the softer, quiet smile. "I'm taking care of you, Sy because I want to. You're ill and you need me. Because I…I care." He sighed quietly. "Now, get some sleep, baby…you look worn out. And I'll sleep over there on the sofa tonight…give you some space. I'll be right here though, if you need me…if you feel sick or anything."

Why did he get the feeling Christian was wanting to say something else…but holding back! He'd had that feeling before, ever since the older man had come to his aid and 'rescued' him from Amira's flat. Well, before that even. There was a moment, he felt; when they'd hugged in the office. But then, maybe it was just his 'sick', 'ill' mind, imagining things. Besides, he was just too damn tired to think straight anymore. Sleep was calling him and the last thing he remembered was the comforting feel of that warm familiar mouth pressed softly against his fevered forehead.

Sleeping on the sofa was not exactly recommended on a long-term basis, not for someone of his muscular frame and long legs. But he had made himself as comfortable as possible, pulling the open end unit round parallel to the seats, so he could spread himself a little better and laying on top, half of a double duvet, pulling the other half over himself; like a big warm, quilted sleeping bag.

And it was perhaps, knowing his ill young lover could need him at any time that kept him only in light sleep; sub-conscientiously listening out for any signs of distress. At the first sign, he was awake. Quickly leaving his sofa-bed and dressed only in his 'boxers', Christian padded sleepily across the floor; his way lit by the soft ambient glow that came from the street-light outside, illuminating on the closed blinds.

Syed was shivering badly.

"I'm cold, Christian."

Without a word and with eyes locked, he slipped beneath the covers.


	7. Chapter 7

In Sickness and In Health

Author's Notes: I know you all know this but since we're dealing with the potentially sensitive subject of faith and religion, just thought I'd say anyway. Any religious views expressed or comments on 'faith matters', are only those of the characters and in keeping with the story.

Chapter 7

He hadn't wanted to wake Christian, wanted him to have his sleep. Yet the selfish in him so badly wanting Christian just to be with him; wanting to know Christian would abandon his sleep, to come to him. And here he was, hadn't disappointed.

And he couldn't take his eyes off the man. It was his turn now to gaze, to drink him in, just as he knew Christian had, when undressing him. That amazing body was a balm for his tired, pained eyes; from his tanned muscular feet, all the way up those long taut, toned legs. Dancer's legs he had told Christian once before, when they were being seductively flirty and yes perhaps, using his charm to get the man to help him with his mendhi dance. His eyes continued to travel up, taking in for a moment that familiar and rather obvious, hard-to-miss 'bulge' beneath tight-fit boxers. He would have been lying if he'd said he hadn't missed the feel of his older lover's 'shaft', at wrapping his hand around, gripping it tight and feeling it harden and throb under his touch; the feel of that warm velvety skin and scent of arousal. And not to mention, the glorious action of those powerfully thrusting hips.

A little higher, brought him the delights of sculpted toned abs and hard, haired chest; rising and falling with the soothing rhythm of his breathing. And then there were the broad shoulders and those 'guns' of his; arms that would wrap around him and hold him, possessively and protecting. But it was that face; those wonderfully strong, chiselled features, that cheeky, cocky, sexily seductive and now so full-of-concern face that stirred things within him; that made Christian …Christian! A bloke could have the most amazing body but without that face, without the person 'inside', he wouldn't be interested.

Yes, Christian was here for him now, slipping beneath the covers and pulling his shivering body close.

"God, baby…you_ are_ cold," Christian whispered. "Come 'ere…we need to get you warmed up."

And immediately he wrapped those long, strong limbs of his around his young lover and began vigorously rubbing at his arm and back, the warm sole of his foot brushing up and down the young man's leg, in an effort to warm him.

Syed clung to him, like his life depended on it. And perhaps, in a way, it did. At least, that's how it felt.

He was cold. And Christian was all warmth; the only true warmth he needed. He was tired, miserable and in pain; felt so alone in the darkness and not just physically. And Christian was comfort; all the comfort he truly needed, like a soothing balm for his aching, lonely soul.

Like a rock, Christian was solid and immoveable; a rock to cling to, in the ceaseless storm of head verses heart. He was the life-raft, secure and unsinkable; a safe haven, on the sea of constant turmoil he felt himself drowning in. Yes, Christian was saviour; his salvation. Willing and wanting to rescue him. The only one who understood the true complexities of his nature; that intrinsic part of himself he could not escape. Christian, who had finally made him face up to who he was and allowed him to be just himself. Christian, who had forced him to face up to that part of himself he'd denied for so long.

Yet he was also damnation. That cruel irony of being both salvation and his damnation, all rolled into one. Everything in his religion and community, family too probably, if they knew, told him that. To be with Christian was to be at odds with what he'd been taught, what he'd been brought up to believe.

And the knowledge brought him nothing only abject misery and agony. Was that all there was to be? Where was the joy and comfort his faith and religion were supposed to bring him? All the praying he had done since sharing that first kiss had brought him no peace, gave him no answers. In fact, it only served to make him question more. Wasn't salvation a good thing! Wasn't he supposed to strive for it! If he was saved from drowning in his own misery, from dying inside; wasn't that a good thing! And how could that person who did the 'saving' be considered anything other than good! And anyway, who was to say what form 'salvation' should take; had to take! It was doing his head in, messing with his very sanity.

But all he knew was; Christian was here, now and saving him, again. Caring for him; being concerned about him. When the person who should have been, who he'd expected to; didn't. And he was falling deeper.

He had tried not to, tried _so_ hard; fought against it, until he had literally made himself ill. Oh, he could just hear his mother, _"You should have tried harder, Syed. You need to pray more."_ Well, he had prayed; prayed himself into exhaustion. Been on his knees so long, they were raw, stiff and sore, that he could hardly get up. And always, he came back to the same place; of having to acknowledge that Christian was in his heart. That his feelings for the man were just growing deeper and stronger.

With his shivering beginning to subside and warmth, at last, penetrating his body, he realised too just how much he missed the physical contact; laying with Christian like this. Amira, when she tried cuddling him, was too soft, too slender. It did nothing for him other than just make him feel protective towards her, like that of a dear friend. No, he was hard-wired into enjoying the feel of hard-muscled male body against him, the unique pleasures only the male physique could give him; he knew that now. And with Christian in particular and his larger frame, he enjoyed a dominance Amira could never give him. She would always expect him to be ultimately, the 'giver' and _that_ would just never be satisfying enough for him; not now, not ever.

Gradually, Christian's vigorous rubbing had become more of gentle caressing, his long legs entwining themselves possessively around his. There was no pressure, no attempt at trying to take advantage. Syed knew his older lover was just content to hold him, to warm him…and he loved Christian for that. Yes, there were so many things he realised he loved the man for.

And as they lay quietly together, apart from his odd cough, there was something now that just kept circling and circling in his head; something he just had to know.

"Christian…what you said, earlier…outside…! Before Mum….!"

It caught him completely unawares but he knew instantly what Syed was referring to. _"….loved you …half as much as I do. _As_. I. do."_

And his heart sank. "Nothing for you to worry about, Sy. Just another 'turn of phrase'."

He couldn't really blame the older man for being cautious, not after his reaction to the 'boyfriend' remark.

"What if…I don't…want it to be?" Syed whispered quietly.

Christian's breath caught, as he gazed down at the ill young Masood. "Sy! What are you saying!"

It was clear they were being cagey around each other. And each, of course, had their own reasons for being so.

"Wh…what if…I don't want it to be…just another 'turn of phrase'! I think…you meant it. Did you, Christian…did you mean it?

The pale green eyes welled with emotion. "Don't, baby…please don't. It's too important, to be doing this right now. You're ill and you're tired….I don't want you upset. And I don't want us to argue."

"I don't want us…to argue either, Christian and I'm not…not upset. But I need to know. Please, Christian…tell me how you feel…_about me_."

"I think you know how I feel about you, Sy," the big Londoner's voice husked, with almost sadness.

"I…I know you care. Christian, pleeeease…just tell me if you meant it. I don't think I'm afraid to hear you…say it now."

Did he dare hope! He could end up regretting this, he knew but…those pleading dark chocolate eyes, filling with their own emotion, just tore him open.

"Care! Sy…I love you. I bloody love you," he replied, giving his younger lover a watery smile, while a tear ran unchecked down his cheek. "I love you _so_ much, it hurts. It hurts not to be with you…to be apart from you for even one minute…to be around you and not be able to touch you. And it tears me apart to see you hurting so much, the pain you're in…what you're doing to yourself. I just want to make it all go away, make it better for you…because I love you so much…and I can't." He drew a shaky breath. "You said once, you couldn't breathe around me. Well, I can't breathe around you because _you_…take my breath away, with how beautiful you are…inside and out."

Syed returned a shaky, emotional smile.

And he wasn't sure but he got the feeling there was almost a relief in his young lover now, hearing him say it; declare love.

"Do you believe in miracles, Sy?" He could see the younger man quirking a puzzled look. "I do. Because you're mine, Sy…you're my miracle. I didn't think it was possible that anyone could make me feel like this. I was always the one in control, calling the shots…never let anyone get that close. But you! You've turned my world upside-down. From that first moment we kissed…you did something to me, Sy…something I can't explain. _You_…you're the reason I know what love is now, what it's like to be held captive by love. And that's what you've done, Sy. You haven't just stolen my heart. You've captured it and chained it…tied it up in so many knots, I can't get free. I tried, Sy…god knows, I tried. For your sake, I tried."

"I…I know you did, Christian."

"But when you've been hit by a miracle, the way you've hit me… it's not so easy to let go. You just want to hang on to it. And I can't apologize for not wanting to let it go."

"I know….," Syed whispered, equally emotional. "And I don't want you to…let go. Because I…I think I feel the same way, Christian. I think…I love you too."

It had been a long time coming; words he never thought he'd hear from the lips of his beautiful, tortured young Muslim lover and if he would never hear them again, he would remember this moment, with bittersweet joy, forever. Syed had come such a long way, from outright denial to finally being able to admit and say those three simple but most beautiful and meaningful words. But he wasn't naïve enough to think it might actually change their situation. It was one thing to finally admit it in private, to him. A big step in itself, yes but to 'come out' and admit love for him to his parents, to Amira, was another thing entirely.

Little wonder then, emotions continued to run high between the pair.

"That's okay…it's really okay, baby," Christian husked quietly, his eyes shining with tears.

"I've missed you, Christian. I've really missed you."

"Missed you too, baby." And the big Londoner instinctively tightened his embrace around his young lover, as though never wanting to let him go; which he didn't.

"I can't do this on my own anymore."

"You never had to, baby," Christian soothed quietly.

"I tried, Christian…I tried not to love you. I fought so hard against it."

"I know you have," he continued to sooth because he understood just how hard the fight was.

"All I've ever wanted…was just to be a good Muslim."

Christian couldn't help the involuntary stab of pain he felt, at knowing Syed just couldn't seem to equate being with him, as being a 'good Muslim' too; this seemingly insurmountable barrier of faith that was destined to always come between them. It hurt; he couldn't deny it. Still, he fought desperately to reassure. And barriers can be breached and mountains climbed!

"And you are, Sy. I don't know anyone who's tried harder. You've been thinking of everybody but yourself…trying to please them…doing what's expected of you…sacrificing your own happiness. You're a good son…respectful, helpful…you love your family. You 'observe', you go to Mosque…."

Syed turned his face up from where he lay against his older lover's hard chest, to fully meet those sea-green eyes; his own eyes shining and about to brim over.

"But good Muslims don't do what _we do_…what _we've done_, Christian."

There was almost a desperation in his young lover, for it not to be true; for him to come up with an answer to somehow make it all right.

"No, I won't let you say that, Sy. I won't let you make it sound like something dirty…something to be ashamed of. I won't let anyone say that. What we had was good…and beautiful. We've both known for a long time now; it was more than just sex. Okay, maybe at the start it was…but that's no different from any other couple attracted to each other, wanting to get to know each other. And when we did, we just couldn't keep apart. We tried, Sy…and we just kept getting pulled back to each other. So, what have we done, baby…only expressed, in the most beautiful way possible, what we've felt deep down for each other. How can that be wrong?"

"Because it's forbidden, Christian. I'm not allowed to be…to be gay."

"Yet, you are," the long-legged caterer encouraged gently.

"Yes." The voice sounded small and almost lost, in the quietness of the night.

It was another breakthrough, another big step, in his young lover's journey to acceptance. But his despair was palpable.

"Look, Sy…I can't pretend to know everything about your religion but…! You believe your Allah …God, made everything…made you?"

"Yes," Syed whispered quietly again.

"And you don't believe he makes mistakes?"

"No. He cannot make mistakes. Everything He made was good," the young Masood affirmed.

"Then he can't have made a mistake with _you_…the way he made you! Sy…you and I, we don't have a choice in what gender we're attracted to. It's who we are. We're hard-wired to be gay. It's as much a part of us as…needing air to breathe! And you, your fighting against it, wanting to be straight. Isn't that like saying…Allah must have made a 'mistake' in his creation! And you know you're not the only one, Sy. You know there are other young Muslim men out there, who feel just like you. Has _he_ made a 'mistake' in the way he made them too!" He could see the young man thinking it through, fighting to try and make sense of it.

"But we have choices, Christain…."

"Yeah, babe…choices to do right and wrong and who hasn't made wrong choices at some time…but not about who we are. Why would your God make you the way you are…but then not allow you to act on it!"

"As a _test_. He tests us, Christian…to make us better."

His heart was breaking for his young lover. Did he really think he was going to overcome all that Syed's faith had instilled in him, with his simple logic! It wasn't going to stop him trying though.

"Having your spirit broken and crushed…having the beautiful person you are, dying inside…is not being a 'better' person, Sy. Would your Allah really be so cruel, as to make you the way you are…only then to demand you stay celibate…for you to be miserable and unhappy for the rest of your life, just as some sort of _test_! Because, baby…that won't just affect you. It will affect everybody round you, your family, Amira. Hurting them, lashing out…being resentful! Or worse still…that you force yourself to live a lie, with someone who is not right for you…just because they're the _acceptable_ gender…and it looks right! Would he _really_ want that for you? Isn't your Allah…God…isn't he a God of love! Would he then deny you the chance to find real love and happiness! And isn't he also, a God of truth!

Sy…I don't want you to abandon your faith…I don't believe you have to. It's part of who you are, I accept that…part of the beautiful, amazing person I love. Maybe the _test_ is…to accept who you are, to find the strength and courage to be who you should be…to find peace and contentment within yourself. Maybe the _test_ is…to be able to reconcile your faith…with who you are!"

"You're quite the philosopher," Syed smiled wearily.

Christian returned a soft smile. "Well, see…there's this crazy Muslim I know, drives me nuts sometimes …but I'm head-over-heels in love with him. And he made me think about things, a lot of things I hadn't thought about before…maybe so I could try and understand him a bit better. I think I'd do just about anything for him because…I love him, beyond all reason."

Talk about being made to feel special! But then, Christian always did have a way of making him feel special; like when he gave up his oldest friend James, just for him. "_Admit it, Sy…it made you feel special_." And it did.

But being ill, he clearly wasn't thinking straight. "And when… you get bored with me, Christian…!"

"Bored!" the strapping East Ender jumped straight in, completely incredulous at the very idea. "Is that what you think!" His voice softened immediately. "How could I ever be bored with you? Sy...you frustrate the hell outta me but I love you…completely and utterly. You think I could ever leave you! Or be happy with anyone else! Haven't you been listening? You're my _miracle._"

Tears shone in those dark chocolate pools…both of joy and of anguish.

"But there's no hope for us, Christian…is there! My family, my community, _the Mosque_…they'll never let us be together. They'll never see it like that…they can't. It's too ingrained…"

"Hey…hey, don't say that," the older man soothed. "I told ya…I believe in miracles. Mosque and your community might be stretchin it a bit though!" he then added, musing more to himself than anything.

All the while, Christian had been softly stroking his back and with warmth and an undeniable contentment now flooding through him, he was again feeling sleepy.

"Christian."

"Hmmm."

"I _do_ love you," Syed murmured, as he drifted.

He didn't see the tear that spilled from the sea-green eyes and ran unchecked down his older lover's face.

"I love you too, Sy…I love you so much. And I won't give up on us…I promise," came the quiet whisper.

How he longed in his heart that Syed hadn't been ill, for they would surely have sealed their mutual declaration of love with some deeply intense lovemaking. Instead he settled for a tender, soft kiss pressed against his young lover's forehead, that he let linger.

Throughout the night, Syed continued to be restless, as he alternated between fever and chills. At one point, apologizing for having disturbed again, his older lover's sleep and to which Christian softly chided him for being such an idiot; that's what he was there for. And so his night consisted of, time and time again, rising sleepily to tend the young Masood; bathing him to keep him cool, giving him cough medicine or whatever he could to make Syed comfortable.

"If it helps, I can go sleep on the sofa again, baby," Christian quietly offered.

But it pleased the big Londoner that _that_ offer was immediately rejected, in favour of being the younger man's continued comfort and solace; when Syed just grasped his wrist, silently encouraging him to stay. When it was the turn of the chills and he felt cold feet and a cold body snuggling against him for warmth, he thought nothing of immediately adjusting position to sleepily accommodate his chilled young lover. Again, deeply pleased Syed automatically and sub-consciously sought him out for warmth.

It was no wonder then, by morning, with all the night's restless activity, both were totally exhausted; finally having fallen into deep sleep.

And that was how she found them.


	8. Chapter 8

In Sickness and In Health

Author's Note: Apologies for the delay and no, not trying to match these annoying black-holes we have to endure…I promise. Lol. Waves to all you guys there on WFCTGIO too.

Chapter 8

It was almost 10 am and Jane Beale's finger hovered over the intercom buzzer of the street door to her brother's flat. Should she or shouldn't she! She had brought the things her brother had asked for, thinking it wise to drop them off first before starting her shift in the café, in case he needed them any time soon. But…what if Syed had had a restless night; which was entirely possible, given how poorly he was. Christian wasn't going to thank her for disturbing him, or himself for that matter, if her brother had also been up all night too, tending him. What if they were, only now, catching up on sleep! That sofa couldn't be too comfortable, she was sure, for someone of her brother's size. Or, what if Christian was in the bathroom, or the shower! He wouldn't hear the buzzer then anyway.

Yes, perhaps it would be best, after all, to use the back-up plan. Sure that her brother wouldn't mind, Jane produced Ian's spare set of keys and let herself in; picking up the bags on the way.

"Christian. It's just me," she announced quietly, having then let herself into the flat itself, after softly tapping on the door, just in case and getting no answer.

She certainly wasn't prepared for what she found, that was for sure and the bags of groceries almost hit the floor…as did her mouth!

Her assumption that a disturbance wouldn't have been welcomed had been right enough. Syed _was_ asleep. And so was her brother…but not on the sofa! No, Christian was cuddled up to him, in the same bed; his bed! Wrapped around and spooning him so tightly it was hard to see, from the form under the duvet, just where one body ended and the other began! Almost as though they were one!

Her initial reaction had been shock, as she took in the scene but the more she thought of it now the more things began to click into place; little things. Things like, yesterday's conversation; when she had told him how she wished he could find his someone special and she was sure she had caught her brother's tender looks in the young Masood's direction. Things like; his being so moody this past while and not ever wanting to talk about it; like he always had something or _someone_ on his mind. Remembering then the conversation she'd had with Zainab, in the café; that Christian and Syed had had _words_…about relationships! Could that now, have had very particular connotations! She had always wondered what had been said between them that her brother had so obviously taken to heart. Although Christian had assured her everything was now alright between them. Was this what he meant!

But was there more! She began to wonder now if it hadn't gone even farther back than that. Though she couldn't begin to imagine just how far back! She had never been able to work out why her brother had suddenly called an end to things with his best friend, James and his reluctance to give a reason; just assuring her, in that same conversation, that his sadness and distraction was nothing to do with James. So…what if it was to do with someone else!

Who else had been present at that disaster of a Sunday lunch! Both the atmosphere and Christian had changed suddenly and dramatically and it was not, she realised now, because her brother had defended her against Ian's thoughtless remarks about not wanting any more kids. No, it had happened before that. What was it James had said! _"Two minutes alone with you…and he's Mister Grumpy."_ Two minutes with…who! It had been with Syed, when he'd cut his finger on the glass and both had been alone together in the small kitchen. But her brother had definitely changed after that. So, what had gone on in those few brief minutes, to change the dynamic between them?

There clearly seemed to be a pattern having developed and _who_ was the common factor? It was all starting to make sense; a worrying kind of sense. And it wouldn't be the first time her brother had become smitten with someone who was _off limits_! Why did he keep doing this! Not only to himself, knowing he was probably going to end up hurt but also what it could do to everyone else involved.

"Oh, Christian," she sighed despairingly.

Still, she couldn't help think, just for a moment, how peaceful her brother looked, while asleep; like he had finally found the inner contentment that always seemed to elude him. And Syed too, didn't look all that uncomfortable either. They did look kind of _good_ together; like they belonged!

No, no, what was she thinking! What was he thinking! This was crazy; this was all kinds of wrong. Shaking her head free of such thoughts, she made her way over to the table and made to set the bags down as quietly as possible, intending then to leave, without making her presence known. But as always, things never quite work out as planned; wincing automatically, as the more she tried to set them down quietly, the more the plastic carrier bags rustled.

"Jane!" a sleepy voice sounded.

Well, so much for trying to do things quietly.

Fixing a smile, Jane turned to find her brother, having just roused from sleep and trying to focus.

"Chrissstian. Look, I eh didn't want to disturb you or Syeed, didn't know whether you'd both still be sleeping…or if you'd be in the shower. So I…let myself in. Wanted to drop these off for you before I started in the café."

"What! Yeah…thanks, Jane," Christian replied, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

He thought he'd been dreaming at first, hearing a rustling and something being set down but then began to realise there was someone in the flat. And he was grateful to find that, unlike the last time he was intruded upon, it was Jane and not Ian. Although that did then present its own problems; realising now, just how his sister must have found him. So, time to face the music and he was sure it would be anything but harmonious; for he could hear it already in her tone.

Christian made to leave the bed, automatically checking that Syed was still asleep and he wasn't disturbing him; unable to help the look of tender affection for his young lover and having to conscientiously hold back from planting a soft kiss against his temple.

It didn't go unnoticed. Thinking her brother to be totally naked though, on seeing initially, only naked torso and bared legs slipping from beneath the duvet and let's face it, this was Christian, Jane went to avert her eyes but sighed inwardly with relief at seeing he was, at least, wearing boxers.

"I did knock but…!"

Christian grabbed and pulled on his towelling robe. "Look, Jane…"

"What the hell are you playing at, Christian!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice from rising.

"I'm not _playing_ at anything, Jane."

"Christian…you were _in bed_ with him for god's sake…practically…_naked_!" Jane flustered. "I suppose you're going to tell me, he was cold and you were _just_ warming him up!"

He frowned heavily; not really liking her tone. "As a matter of fact…he was."

"And that's what you do for _all_ your friends who have the flu, is it! Get into bed with them…_to warm them up_!"

The muscular Londoner quietly shook his head. "It's not what you think, Jane…you don't understand."

"What's not to understand, Christian? _You_…wanting someone you can't or _shouldn't_ have!"

"I _love_ him, Jane."

Well, she wasn't exactly expecting that bombshell. Becoming smitten with him was one thing, with them being friends and working together. Yes, she could understand that. But love! Though she had to admit, her brother had been acting totally out of character for a while now. He was in obviously a lot deeper than she thought.

"Love! Christian! You don't _do_ love!"

He hadn't really meant for it to come spilling out but he couldn't bear any longer for his sister to think his feelings for Syed were nothing more than some obsessive infatuation; that he hadn't changed at all.

"Yeah, well…things change. And he loves me," the Walford caterer informed determinedly.

Jane Beale almost choked, not sure which was the bigger bombshell. Still, she tried to keep her voice just above a whisper. "He…he told you that!"

"Last night…we talked." Christian couldn't keep the look of loving adoration from his face, as he gazed back to the young man still sleeping in his bed.

Jane though couldn't help worry for her brother. "Christian, he's ill! How do you know Syeed didn't just mean, he loves you as a friend…for taking care of him like this!"

He hefted a wry little laugh. "What! You think I've just been worshipping him from afar…like some lovesick little puppy! How do you think I know?" Christian could see the 'penny begin to drop'. "Yeah, that's right, Jane. Me…and Syed. What! Did you think it was all one-way traffic!"

It was obvious she did.

"But…but he can't be….," she started, slumping down onto the nearest dining chair.

"Gay! _Why not_!" he asked, with quiet deliberation.

"Christian! He's Muslim, for a start…for god's sake. His _religion_!" Jane emphasised, as though it should be obvious. "I mean…are you sure?" To which she was rewarded with an exasperated sigh and her brother's head cocked to one side, in a knowing look. "Okay…don't answer that."

"Look, Jane…you should know, it doesn't work like that. Religion…or no religion. He is what he is…he didn't choose it. But yeah…I _do_ know, only too well, what a conflict it is for him with his religion."

And didn't he just. _Good Muslims don't do what we've done, Christian_; part of the agonised conversation they'd had during the night.

She was still trying to get her head round what her brother was telling her. "And…he's getting married, Christian! He's engaged…to Amira! Have you thought of that!"

As if he needed reminding. "And you think that makes him _straight_, do you?" the strapping Londoner asked with quiet calm.

"Then why would he….!"

"Look, Jane…it's complicated," Christian sighed despondently, after a quick glance back to the sleeping form of his young lover.

"Complicated!" she squeaked, trying to keep her voice from rising.

"He thought it was the _right_ thing to do…for his family…his _religion_. It's what was expected of him…what he expected for himself. And…he was in denial. Thought if he proposed, made it official…then all these feelings would go away. I tried to tell him. And now…now he's made himself ill with it all. It's been tearing him up inside. Because he knows what he feels…for me." Christian let out a quiet sigh, dragging his hands down his face. "So yeah, Jane…I'd say it's pretty damn complicated."

It was complicated alright and the full implication of what her brother had just said was dawning on her.

"Then…you and Syeed…_before_ he got engaged!" She hadn't even contemplated that possibility; thought it had all been a little more recent than that. But she had only to look at the meaningful look her brother shot her and her eyes grew wider. "Christian! Just when did all this start!"

"June. When we had that _little_ bit of trouble in the Café! You and Ian were in Scotland!" he replied, eyeing her carefully.

_Little_ bit of trouble, he'd said! The café had only gone up in flames and had to be totally gutted and redecorated. And all without them knowing, until they'd got back; only then to find, her complete idiot of a husband had let the premiums lapse and they weren't insured.

"We'd just finished a function for Bushra. Things had been said and…it just happened. And…we've been on and off ever since.

It was revelation after revelation; her eyes growing wider still. And other things were now falling into place. Things like; when they'd had to go 'cap in hand' to the Masoods for the loan to cover the costs, Christian had told them not to worry, he had a way of keeping Syed in line. She'd thought at the time it was an odd thing to say and had no idea what he meant. But now!

And yes, of course. That morning in the café! He had come in, full of the joys of spring and ordered up a full English breakfast; only then to leave it untouched, saying he had lost his appetite. She remembered teasing him about it, about being in love. And who was it he had been talking to at the time! Syed. No wonder he had been cagey about it all, practically telling her to mind her own business. _What it is…is private, _he'd told her. She had obviously witnessed one of their _off_ again moments, without ever realising.

Something else then just dawned on her too. "Oh god…Christian! And that night he got engaged …you left early. It was the night you were….." She couldn't even bring herself to say the words, _beaten up_.

He suddenly looked bereft; the pale green eyes welling up as the memory flooded back. "I loved him then, Jane….and I just couldn't stay any longer and watch him…pretend."

"_You know, it's times like this…I wish I was straight."_

She remembered now, the choked emotion that poured from her brother as she held him; his handsome face, battered and bruised. And now she knew why. And then she'd gone and unknowingly, poured salt in the wound by telling him how much Syed was worried about him.

"Oh, Christian…." She reached out and squeezed his forearm.

"Yeah well, it's not like I could go shouting it from the rooftops, was it!"

Yes, everything had finally fallen into place; everything made sense. As it always does; when one ends up with all the facts. And the fact she knew now it was real and not just, as she supposed, some hopeful fantasy of her brother's; she worried even more for him.

"But Christian…he's still with Amira," Jane gently reminded him and full of sympathy, only to see her brother's jaw tighten.

"He just needs time, Jane. _Like I said_…we talked last night."

"That doesn't mean he's ever going to be able to choose you, Christian."

She could see it had hit a nerve and it was obvious he had thought about it.

"All I know Jane, is…I love him," came the quiet declaration. "He's my _'someone special'_….and _he_ loves me."

And that's what worried her most of all; his absolute surety and resolute determination. Now that he felt he had found love, he wouldn't let go of it that easily. He would more than likely fight for it, like a tiger for its mate. In a way, she was almost envious. Would Ian fight for her like that! Be determined to take on such impossible odds; to stand against, not only such a formidable family as the Masoods but the weight of a whole religion!

This surely couldn't end well and it was inevitable someone, somewhere was going to get hurt.

"Oh, Christian…I feel for you…" She stole a glance to the still sleeping form. "…I feel for both of you, I really do…"

"Then say nothing, Jane…to anyone. Please," Christian urged.

Why did she know he was going to ask that of her! Jane sighed. "I just don't want to see you hurt anymore, Christian."

He smiled sadly. "I know and I appreciate it. But you can't say anything to anyone. Promise me, Jane…not even to Ian. You know what he's like. First run-in with Zainab and he'd be blabbin it all out…."

She had to agree with her brother there.

"…this is between Sy and me. It's his choice." Of course, he wasn't going to say that someone else already did know. Not that she didn't deserve it but he didn't want to drop Lucy in it with his sister. Besides, that matter had been dealt with. It was 'done and dusted'. Wasn't it!

Oh, there was so much more she could have said but with Syed not more than a few feet away and poorly; this really wasn't the time. And so, against her better judgement, Jane sighed and nodded. "Alright, Christian. But I just hope you both know what you're doing!"

"Thanks, babe," the muscular Londoner acknowledged quietly.

"Oh don't thank me, Christian…."

A soft groan from the direction of the bed had them both quickly glancing over.

And taking that as her cue to leave, Jane stood. "Look I'd eh…better get going. Oh and that reminds me…you'd better hold on to these." She left the keys to the flat on the table. "Wouldn't want Ian walking in on you anytime," she added with a little smile. "Not that he's going to risk himself near anyone who even remotely has a cold, never mind swine flu…but you never know. Just in case!"

Christian had to smile at the thought of his brother-in-law's almost legendary penchant for self-preservation and was appreciative of her thoughtfulness.

"If you need anything else…!" Jane then offered, as she turned at the door.

The muscular Londoner nodded his thanks and rubbing in the necessary hand gel, she left.

"Christian!"

The soft pained groan broke into his thoughts and had him immediately by the young man's side.

"Hey, babe."

"I…I thought I heard…voices!"

It threw him, just for a moment and he drew in a breath. Had Syed been awake! Did he hear what had been said! It was clear though from his pained sleepiness that everything was still fuzzy, so he was not, at this time anyway, going to burden his young lover with anything more.

Christian softly stroked his cheek. "It was just Jane…leaving in the things I'd asked her for yesterday. Now, why don't I get you your tablets…and then you can go back to having a sleep."

Down in the street below, Jane Beale stole a glance back up to the flat above the chip shop; still reeling from her brother's revelations. She didn't see or hear the young woman that approached her from behind. Not until she heard her name and turned to see the broadly beaming smile.

"Amira!"


End file.
